E - The English and Scottish popular ballads, volume 5 (of 5) - 174

E

P. 393. ‘Andrew Bartin,’ communicated by Miss Louise Porter Haskell as derived from Gen. E. P. Alexander of South Carolina, and derived by him from the singing of a cadet at West Point Military Academy in the winter of 1856-7. Two or three slight corrections have been made by Mrs A. C. Haskell, sister of Gen. Alexander. This copy comes nearer than the others to the original Andrew Barton; but sts 11-13 are derived from Captain Ward, No 287, 8, 10.

Three bold brothers of merrie Scotland,

And three bold brothers were they,

And they cast lots the one with the other,

To see who should go robbing all oer the salt sea;

And they cast lots the one with the other,

To see who should go robbing all oer the salt sea.

The lot it fell on Andrew Bartin,

The youngest of the three,

That he should go robbing all oer the salt sea,

To maintain his two brothers and he.

He had not sailed but one long summer night,

When daylight did appear;

He saw a ship sailing far off and far round,

At last she came sailing quite near.

‘Who art? who art?’ says Andrew Bartin,

‘Who art thee comes sailing so nigh?’

‘We are the rich merchants of merrie England,

Just please for to let us pass by.’

‘Pass by? pass by?’ says Andrew Bartin,

‘No, no, that never can be;

Your ship and your cargo I will take away,

And your brave men drown in the sea.’

Now when this news reached merrie England—

King George he wore the crown—

That his ship and his cargo were taken away,

And his brave men they were all drowned.

‘Go build me a ship,’ says Captain Charles Stewart,

‘A ship both stout and sure,

And if I dont fetch this Andrew Bartin,

My life shall no longer endure.’

He had not sailed but one long summer night,

When daylight did appear,

He saw a ship sailing far off and far round,

And then she came sailing quite near.

‘Who art? who art?’ says Captain Charles Stewart,

‘Who art comes sailing so nigh?’

‘We are the bold brothers of merrie Scotland,

Just please for to let us pass by.’

‘Pass by? pass by?’ says Captain Charles Stewart,

‘No, no, that never can be;

Your ship and your cargo I will take away,

And your brave men carry with me.’

‘Come on! come on!’ says Andrew Bartin,

‘I value you not one pin;

And though you are lined with good brass without,

I’ll show you I’ve fine steel within.’

Then they drew up a full broadside

And at each other let pour;

They had not fought for four hours or more,

When Captain Charles Stewart gave oer.

‘Go home! go home!’ says Andrew Bartin,

‘And tell your king for me,

That he may reign king of the merry dry land,

But that I will be king of the sea.’

2¹, etc. Bartyn. Gen. Alexander remarks that “the accent was on the last syllable.”

‘Row tu me, row tu me,’ says He-ne-ry Burgin,

‘Row tu me, row tu me, I prah;

For I ha tarnd a Scotch robber across the salt seas,

Tu ma-i-ntn my tew brothers and me.’

Fragment of a Suffolk Harvest Home song, remembered by an old Suffolk divine. Contributed by Edward Fitzgerald to Suffolk Notes and Queries in the ‘Ipswich Journal,’ 1877-78; where another stanza follows which has no connection with the above. See ‘Two Suffolk Friends,’ by Francis Hindes Groome, Edinburgh and London, 1895, p. 79 f.

269. Lady Diamond.

[P. 29 a. Zupitza, Die mittelenglischen Bearbeitungen der Erzählung Boccaccio’s von Ghismonda u. Guiscardo, in Geiger’s Vierteljahrsschrift f. Kultur u. Litteratur der Renaissance, 1886, I, 63 ff.]

29. Italian. D. ‘Ricardo e Germonda,’ communicated by P. Mazzucchi, Castelguglielmo, July, 1894, to Rivista delle Tradizioni pop. italiane, I, 691.

[32 ff. On these stories of the husband who gives his wife her lover’s heart to eat, see H. Patzig, Zur Geschichte der Herzmäre, Berlin, 1891.]

34. A is translated by Professor Emilio Teza, ‘Donna Brigida,’ in Rassegna Napolitana, II, 63, 1895.

272. The Suffolk Miracle.

P. 60 ff. See Professor Schischmánov in Indogermanische Forschungen, IV, 412-48, 1894, Der Lenorenstoff in der bulgarischen Volkspoesie, Professor Schischmánov counts more than 140 versions of The Dead Brother, ballad and tale, in Albanian, Bulgarian, Greek, Roumanian, and Servian, 60 of these Bulgarian. Dozon 7 is affirmed to be a mere plagiarism. The versions of the Romaic ballad run up to 41. A very strong probability is made out of the derivation of all of the ballads of ‘The Dead Brother’ from the Greek.

62. Compare La Jeune Fille et l’âme de sa mère, Luzel, I, 60, 61 ff. A girl who grieves for her dead mother, and wishes to see her again, is directed by the curé to go three nights to the church, taking each time an apron for her mother. The mother tears the apron into 9, 6, 3 pieces successively.

La mère va alors trouver sa fille

Et lui parle de la sorte:

‘Tu as eu du bonheur

Que je ne t’aie mise toi-même en morceaux!

‘Que je ne t’aie mise en pièces, toute vivante,

Comme je le faisais à mes tabliers!

‘Tu augmentais mes peines, chaque jour,

Par la douleur que tu me témoignais!’

64. A dead lover takes his mistress on his horse at midnight and carries her to the grave in which he is to be buried the following day. Her corpse is found there, flattened out and disfigured. ‘La fiancée du mort,’ Le Braz, La Légende de la mort en Basse-Bretagne, pp. 359-67.

[65 a. Romaic. Add: Georgeakis et Pineau, Le Folk-lore de Lesbos, p. 253 (in translation).]

273. King Edward the Fourth and a Tanner of Tamworth.

P. 74 f. Similar tales: Sébillot, Contes pop. de la Haute-Bretagne, II, 149 f.; Luzel, Contes pop. de la Basse-Bretagne, I, 259.

274. Our Goodman.

P. 88 a. [A version similar to that in Smith’s Scotish Minstrel, but not absolutely identical, is mentioned in Blätter f. literarische Unterhaltung, 1855, p. 236, as contained, with a German translation, in “Ten Scottish Songs rendered into German. By W. B. Macdonald of Rammerscales. Scottish and German. Edinburgh, 1854.” Professor Child refers to this version in a MS. note. A specimen of the translation is given in the journal just cited, as well as enough of the Scotch to show that the copy is not exactly like Smith’s. “Vetter Macintosh” and “der Fürst Karl” are mentioned. Macdonald’s book is not at this moment accessible. G. L. K.]

89 f., 281 a. ‘Le Jaloux, ou Les Répliques de Marion;’ add version from Normandy (prose), Revue des Traditions populaires, X, 136; Hautes-Pyrénées, p. 515.

The copy in Le chroniqueur du Périgord et de Limousin is ‘La rusade,’ Poésies pop. de la France, MSS, III, fol. 84. The copy in Le Pèlerinage de Mireille (A. Lexandre), is from Provence, and closely resembles that in Daudet’s Numa Roumestan.

Italian. Add ‘Marion,’ Rivista delle Tradizioni pop. italiane, II, 34-37. ‘O Violina’ is repeated, very nearly, in a Tuscan Filastrocca, Rivista delle Tradizioni pop. italiane, II, 474 f.; see also Archivio, III, 43, No 18. A Polish ballad has some little similarity: Kolberg, Lud, XXI, 54, No 112.

275. Get up and bar the Door.

P. 96 ff., 281. Add: ‘Le fumeur de hachich et sa femme,’ cited by R. Basset, Revue des Traditions Populaires, VII, 189. G. L. K. [Also ‘The First Fool’s Story,’ M. Longworth Dames, Balochi Tales, Folk-Lore, IV, 195.]

277. The Wife Wrapt in Wether’s Skin.

P. 104. From the recitation of Miss Lydia R. Nichols, Salem, Massachusetts, as heard in the early years of this century. Sung by a New England country fellow on ship-board: Journal of American Folk-Lore, VII, 253 ff., 1894.

As to “drew her table,” 13, the following information is given: “I have often heard a mother tell her daughter to ‘draw the table.’ Forty years ago it was not uncommon to see in farmhouses a large round table, the body of which was made to serve as an armchair. When the table was not in use the top was tipped back against the wall. Under the chair-seat was a drawer in which the table linen was kept. When meal-time came the table was drawn away from the wall, the top brought down on the arms of the chair, and the cloth, which had been fished out of the drawer, spread over it.”

Sweet William he married a wife,

Gentle Jenny cried rosemaree

To be the sweet comfort of his life.

As the dew flies over the mulberry tree.

Jenny couldnt in the kitchen to go,

For fear of dirting her white-heeled shoes

Jenny couldn’t wash, and Jenny couldn’t bake,

For fear of dirting her white apurn tape.

Jenny couldn’t card, and Jenny couldn’t spin,

For fear of hurting her gay gold ring.

Sweet William came whistling in from plaow,

Says, ‘O my dear wife, is my dinner ready naow?’

She called him a dirty paltry whelp:

‘If you want any dinner, go get it yourself.’

Sweet William went aout unto the sheep-fold,

And aout a fat wether he did pull.

And daown on his knees he began for to stick,

And quicklie its skin he thereof did strip.

He took the skin and laid on his wife’s back,

And with a good stick went whikety whack.

‘I’ll tell my father and all my kin

How still a quarrel you’ve begun.’

‘You may tell your father and all your kin

How I have thrashed my fat wether’s skin.’

Sweet William came whistling in from plaow,

Says, ‘Oh my dear wife, is my dinner ready naow?’

She drew her table and spread her board,

And, ‘Oh my dear husband,’ was every word.

And naow they live free from all care and strife,

And naow she makes William a very good wife.

Folk-Lore Society, County Folk-Lore, Printed Extracts: No 2, Suffolk, 1893, collected and edited by the Lady Eveline Camilla Gurdon, p. 139 f. Contributed by “a Suffolk man” to the Suffolk Notes and Queries column of The Ipswich Journal, 1877.

There wus a man lived in the West,

Limbo clashmo!

There wus a man lived in the West,

He married the wuman that he liked best.

With a ricararo, ricararo, milk in the morn,

O dary mingo.

He married this wuman and browt her hom,

And set her in his best parlour rom.

My man and I went to the fowd,

And ketcht the finest wuther that we could howd.

We fleed this wuther and browt him hom,

Sez I, ‘Wife, now youar begun yar doon.’

I laid this skin on my wife’s back,

And on to it I then did swack.

I ’inted har with ashen ile,

Limbo clashmo!

I ’inted har with ashen ile,

Till she could both brew, bake, wash and bile.

O dary mingo—mingo.

278. The Farmer’s Curst Wife.

P. 107 a. This has no connection with the story in Wendenmuth, Œsterley, I, 366, p. 402; see Œsterley’s note, V, 60.

Compare the broadside ballad ‘The Devil and the Scold,’ Roxburghe Collection, I, 340, 341; Chappell, Roxburghe Ballads, II, i, 367 ff.; Collier, Book of Roxburghe Ballads, 1847, p. 35 ff.

280. The Beggar-Laddie.

P. 116. Motherwell sent a copy of C to Sharpe with a letter from Paisley, 8th October, 1825, and printed C in an article on “Scottish Song” in the Paisley Magazine, 1828, p. 621, in both cases with two or three insignificant variations. He mentions in the latter another version in which the hero is called King James, in accordance with the vulgar traditions concerning the Gudeman o Ballengoich.

In Findlay’s MSS, I, 144, there are five unimportant stanzas, nearer to D than to the other versions, and having, like D, the title ‘The Gaberlunzie Laddie.’

286. The Sweet Trinity (The Golden Vanity).

P. 137. B. Mr Macmath has a copy of ‘The Goulden Vanitee’ in the handwriting of Peter Scott Fraser which is identical with that printed by Logan except that it has Vanitee for Vanitie in 1³ and 9², Countree in 4², they row’d in 6¹, Oh! in 8¹, and Eck iddle dee (not du) in the burden. Mr. Macmath notes that B was printed by Mrs. Gordon, in Christopher North, a Memoir of John Wilson, Edinburgh, 1862, II, 317 ff., in a form identical with that in Mr. Fraser’s MS. copy [except for one variation (they’ve row’d for they row’d in 6¹)].

287. Captain Ward and the Rainbow.

P. 135. A copy taken down from the lips of an old Suffolk (Monk Soham) laborer was contributed by Archdeacon Robert Hindes Groome to Suffolk Notes and Queries in the Ipswich Journal [1877-78], and is repeated in Two Suffolk Friends, 1895, p. 46. W. Macmath.

291. Child Owlet.

P. 156. Mr Macmath has called my attention to a ballad on the story of Child Owlet by William Bennet in The Dumfries Monthly Magazine, II, 402, 1826. This piece, called ‘Young Edward,’ “is founded upon a tradition still current in the district in which Morton Castle is situated.” Its quality is that of the old-magazine ballad.

294. Dugall Quin.

P. 165. Dugald Gunn, Mr Macmath suggests, may have been a mistaken reading of Scott’s difficult handwriting on the part of the editor of the Ballad Book; as is certainly the case with regard to The Stirrup of Northumberland, V, 207 b, No 9, G.

I unhappily forgot Buchan’s ‘Donald M’Queen’s Flight wi Lizie Menzie,’ Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 117, which, though I think it corrupted at the end, removes the principal verbal difficulties in the Old Lady’s copy. Mr Walker of Aberdeen has reminded me of Buchan’s ballad, and he had previously suggested to me that Dunfermline was proprietor of Fyvie, and this fact had disposed me to read Fyvie where the text already given has farei, farie. Of the rightfulness of this reading there can now be no doubt, though information is desirable as to the tempting cheese of Fyvie, of which I have not found mention elsewhere.

Buchan, II, 319, makes the following note on his copy:—

“Donald M’Queen, the hero of this ballad, was one of the servants of Baron Seaton of Fyvie, who, with his master, had fled to France after the rebellion in 1715. Baron Seaton having died in France, Donald, his man, returned to Fyvie with one of his master’s best horses, and procured a love potion, alias ‘the tempting cheese of Fyvie,’ which had the effect of bewitching, or, in other words, casting the glamour oer his mistress, Lizie Menzie, the Lady of Fyvie. Some years afterwards this lady went through the country as a common pauper, when, being much fatigued, and in a forlorn condition, she fell fast asleep in the mill of Fyvie, whither she had gone to solicit an alms (charity): on her awakening, she declared that she had just now slept as soun a sleep with the meal-pock beneath her head, as ever she had done on the best down-bed of Fyvie. This information I had from James Rankin, an old blind man, who is well acquainted with the traditions of the country.”

Alexander Seaton acquired Fyvie, it is said, in 1596, and in 1606 was created Earl of Dunfermline. Castle and title were forfeited in 1689, and the property was purchased of the crown in 1726 by the Earl of Aberdeen. Dunfermline had no horses for Dugald or Donald to take after 1689. The whole story of Lizie Menzie, Baroness of Seaton, seems to be a fiction as sheer as it is vulgar. Lizie Menzie’s forsaking her husband for a footman is refuted by the well-informed Rankin himself, who tells us that the husband had died in France before his man “returned to Fyvie with one of his master’s best horses.” The conclusion is borrowed mostly from ‘The Gypsy Laddie,’ where even the drinking of one’s own brewage is to be found; but ‘The Gypsy Laddie’ is not to be reproached with the foolish last stanza.

Donald, he’s come to this town,

And he’s been lang awa,

And he is on to Lizie’s bedside,

Wi his tartan trews and a’.

‘How woud you like me, Lizie,’ he said,

‘An I ware a’ your ain,

Wi tartan coat upo my back,

And single-soled sheen,

A blue bonnetie on my head,

And my twa winking een?’

‘Weel woud I like you, Donald,’ she said,

‘An ye ware a’ my ain,

Wi tartan coat upo your back,

And single-soled sheen,

And little blue bonnetie on your head,

And blessings on your een.

‘But how woud ye like me, Donald,’ she said,

‘An I ware a’ your ain,

Wi a siller snood into my head,

A gowd fan in my hand,

And maidens clad in green satins,

To be at my command?’

‘Weel woud I like you, Lizie,’ he said,

‘And ye ware a’ my ain,

Wi a siller snood into your head,

A gowd fan in your hand,

But nane o your maidens clad in green,

To be at your command.’

Then but it speaks her mither dear,

Says, ‘Lizie, I maun cross you;

To gang alang wi this young man,

We’d think we had but lost you.’

‘O had your tongue, my mither dear,

And dinna think to break me;

For I will gang wi this young man,

If it is his will to take me.’

Donald M’Queen rade up the green,

On ane o Dumfermline’s horses,

And Lizie Menzie followed him,

Thro a’ her father’s forces.

‘O follow me, Lizie, my heart’s delight,

And follow me for you please;

Rype well the grounds o my pouches,

And ye’ll get tempting cheese.’

‘O wae mat worth you, Donald M’Queen!

Alas, that ever I saw thee!

The first love-token ye gae me

Was the tempting cheese o Fyvie.

‘O wae be to the tempting cheese,

The tempting cheese o Fyvie,

Gart me forsake my ain gudeman

And follow a footman-laddie!

‘But lat me drink a hearty browst,

Just sic as I did brew!

On Seton brave I turnd my back,

A’ for the sake o you.’

She didna wear the silken gowns

Were made into Dumbarton,

But she is to the Highlands gane,

To wear the weeds o tartan.

She’s casten aff the high-heeld sheen,

Made o the Turkey leather,

And she’s put on the single brogues,

To skip amo the heather.

Well can Donald hunt the buck,

And well can Lizie sew;

Whan ither trades begin to fail,

They can take their bowies and brew.

299. Trooper and Maid.

P. 174.

D.

‘The Trooper Lad.’ Communicated by Mr Macmath, with this note: “Received, 21st August, 1895, at Crossmichael, from my aunt, Miss Jane Webster. Learned by her many years ago, at Airds of Kells, from the singing of John Coltart.”

The trooper lad cam to oor gate,

And oh! but he was weary,

He rapped at and chapped at,

Syne called for his kind deary.

The bonnie lass being in the close,

The moon was shining clearly,—

‘Ye’r welcome here, my trooper lad,

Ye’r welcome, my kind deary.’

She’s taen his horse by the bridle-reins,

And led him to the stable,

She’s gien him corn and hay to eat,

As much as he was able.

She’s taen the knight by the milk-white hand,

And led him to her chamber,

And gied him bread and cheese to eat,

And wine to drink his pleasure.

‘Bonnie lassie, I’ll lie near ye noo,

Bonnie lassie, I’ll lie near ye,

An I’ll gar a’ your ribbons reel

In the morning or I leave ye.’

. . . . . . .

And she put off her wee white smock,

Crying, ‘Laddie, are ye ready?’

* * * * * *

The first time that the trumpet played

Was, Up, up and awa, man!

The next time that the trumpet played

Was, The morn’s the battle-day, man!

‘Bonnie lassie, I maun leave ye noo,

Bonnie lassie, I maun leave ye;

But, if e’er I come this way again

I will ca in an see ye.’

Bread and cheese for gentlemen,

An corn and hay for horses;

Pipes and tobacco for auld wives,

And bonnie lads for lasses.

‘When will us twa meet again?

When will we meet and marry?’

‘When cockle-shells turn silver bells,

Nae langer, love, we’ll tarry.’

So he’s taen his auld grey cloak about him noo,

An he’s ower the mountains fairly,

Crying, ‘Fare ye weel, my bonnie lass,

Fareweel, my ain kind deary.’

Mr Macmath adds the following stanza, “remembered by Miss Agnes Macmath, 2nd January, 1896, from the singing of her mother.”

‘When will we twa meet again?

When will we meet and marry?’

‘When peace and truth come to this land,

Nae langer, love, we’ll tarry.’

305. The Outlaw Murray.

P. 186 a. Mr Macmath writes (Dec. 24, 1895) that he has examined two boxes of MSS belonging to the late Mr George Wilson and found not ‘The Song of the Outlaw Murray,’ but ‘The Song of the Rid Square,’ in a transcript (perhaps early rather than late) of the 17th century. He thinks that by a slip of memory on Mr Wilson’s part ‘The Outlaw Murray’ was mentioned instead of this.

Fragments.

P. 202 b, last stanza. Mr Macmath has given me the following variation, communicated (with a story of a wife carried off by fairies) by J. C. to The Scottish Journal, II, 275, 1848.

O Alva woods are bonnie,

Tillycoultry hills are fair,

But when I think on the braes o Menstrie

It maks my heart aye sair.

P. 210 b, to III, 500. Mr Macmath informs me that the manuscript of Motherwell here referred to is the same as that already printed, and correctly printed, at III, 500 f.