I.
P. 435, V, 217. Communicated by Mr J. K. Hudson of Manchester. Sung after a St George play regularly acted on All Souls’ Day at a village a few miles from Chester, and written down for Mr Hudson by one of the performers, a lad of sixteen. The play was introduced by a song called Souling (similar to a Stephening, see I, 234), and followed by two songs, of which this is the last, the whole dramatic company singing.
1 ‘And it’s where hast thou been all this night long, my son? Come tell it unto me.’ ‘I have been lying on yonder bull-rushes, Which lies beneath yond tree.’
2 ‘And it’s what are the spots on this thy coat, my son? Come tell it unto me.’ ‘They are the spots of my poor brother’s blood, Which lies beneath yonder tree.’
3 ‘And it’s what didst thou kill thy poor brother for, my son? Come tell it unto me.’ ‘Because he killed two pretty little birds, Which flew from tree to tree.’
4 ‘And it’s what will the father say when he comes, my son? Come tell it unto me.’ ‘I will dress me up in sailor’s clothes, And my face he will never see.’
5 ‘And it’s what wilt thou do with thy pretty little wife, my son? Come tell it unto me.’ ‘I will dress her up in lad[d]ie’s clothes, And she will sail along with me.’
6 ‘And it’s what wilt thou do with thy children three, my son? Come tell it unto me.’ ‘I will leave them to my poor grandfather to rear, And comfort [to] him [to be].’
7 ‘And it’s when shall we see thy face again, my son? Come tell it unto me.’ ‘When the sun and moon shines both at once, And that shall never be.’
53. Young Beichan.
P. 459 a. For a late German ballad on the Moringer story (‘von dem Markgrafen Backenweil’) see Bolte, Zeitschrift des Vereins für Volkskunde, III, 65-7, and for notes of dramas upon the theme, pp. 62-4. I do not observe that I have anywhere referred to the admirably comprehensive treatment of the subject by von Tettau, Ueber einige bis jetzt unbekannte Erfurter Drucke des 15. Jahrhunderts, Ritter Morgeners Wallfahrt, pp. 75-123. The book did not come into my hands till two years after my preface was written.
FOOTNOTES:
[126] All the ballads in Scott’s Minstrelsy, excepting a few pieces, of which only ‘Cospatrick’ and ‘The Bonny Hind’ require mention, were translated in Historische und romantische Balladen der Schottischen Grenzlande, Zwickau, 1826-7, 7 small vols, by Elise von Hohenhausen, Willibald Alexis, and Wilhelm von Lüdemann, a work now rare, which has just come to hand. Registering these translations here, in 53 entries, would require an unwarrantable space.
VOL. II.
56. Dives and Lazarus.
P. 10 b, III, 507 b, 508 a, IV, 462 b, V, 220 a. Add: =Ruthenian= ballad, Kolberg, Pokucie, II, 280, No 505. Legends not in stanzas, =White Russian=, ‘Lazar,’ Šejn, II, 578-90, 3 copies; Romanov, Part V, pp. 341-56, Nos 22-26, 5 copies and variants; =Great Russian=, Jakuškin, p. 44, No 13, 2 copies. Lazarus and the rich man are brothers.
‘Il ricco Epulone,’ the Madonna begging, Archivio, XIV, 209 f.
57. Brown Robyn’s Confession.
P. 13, 510 a, IV, 463 a, V, 220 a. A serpent stops a ship and demands a passenger: Larminie, West-Irish Folk-Tales, p. 131. On the detention of ships by submarine folk, see Whitley Stokes, Revue Celtique, XV, 294 f. G. L. K. (The article attributed to R. Köhler, II, 510 a, is by L. Laistner.) [Add Jātaka, Bk. I, No 41, Cowell, I, 110. A ship mysteriously detained because the owner has neglected a promise: Yacoub Artin Pacha, Contes pop. de la vallée du Nil, p. 74.]
59. Sir Aldingar.
[P. 33, 511 b, III, 508 a, IV, 462 a. For parallels, including the child champion, see R. Köhler’s account of the Breton mystery of Sainte Tryphine, Revue Celtique, I, 222 ff. F. N. Robinson.]
64. Fair Janet.
P. 102 f. (Breton ballad), III (497 b, No 5), 508 b, IV, 464 a, V, 222 a. Add to the French ballads a copy from Basse-Normandie obtained by M. Couraye du Parc, Études romanes dédiées à Gaston Paris, 1891, p. 49; ‘L’infidèle punie,’ Beauquier, Chansons p. recueillies en Franche-Comté, p. 254. [On the similarity of the beginning of ‘La Fidanzata Infedele’ to that of the Danish ballad ‘Hyrde og Ridderfrue,’ see Olrik, Ridderviser, I, 181, No 349.]
P. 109. Something similar to what is narrated in =F= 7-10 is, I am assured by high authorities, familiar to practising physicians. An eminent professor in the Harvard Medical School informs me that in the case of two families under his care the husband has been regularly troubled with “morning sickness” during the first three or four months of the wife’s pregnancy (the husband in neither case being of a nervous or hysterical disposition). Mr. E. E. Griffith, late of Harvard College, tells me that a respectable and intelligent man of his acquaintance in Indiana maintained that he always shared the pains of his wife during parturition, and that his labors were as intense in degree and as long in time as hers. A distinguished physician of Indiana, while testifying to the frequency of cases of the like sympathy, insists that such experiences occur only to husbands who have witnessed the pains in question, or who have learned about them by reading or conversation on the matter, and that “suggestion” affords an explanation of the phenomenon.
65. Lady Maisry.
P. 112 f. In a Polish ballad a girl who has had a child irregularly is burned by her two brothers. Her paramour comes by when she is half burned, and she begs him to save her. (How can I? he says; your brothers are here. The brothers say, we have done wrong to burn her; we have left her child an orphan.) Kolberg, Lud, XVI, 291, No 476.
P. 114, st. 17.
O whare is a’ my merry young men, Whom I gi meat and fee?
With this common-place compare:
Hvor ere nu de Kæmper, min Fader giver Brød (Løn), Grundtvig, D. g. F., No 184, G, 8, 9.
Aquí, aquí, los mis doscientos, Los que comeis el mi pan.
Wolf and Hofmann, Primavera, I, 39, 41 f., and Conde Claros, the same, II, 374.
66. Lord Ingram and Child Wyet.
Pp. 127, 511, III, 509 a. Naked sword as emblem of chastity. More notes by R. Köhler to Laura Gonzenbach’s Sicilianische Märchen, Nos 39, 40, now published by J. Bolte in Zeitschrift des Vereins für Volkskunde, VI, 76.
[Mame Ala, in the Kurdish story ‘Mâm and Sîn,’ lays a dagger (_Dolchmesser_) between himself and Sine, “so dass der Griff desselben gegen ihre, die Spitze gegen seine eigene Brust gerichtet war.” Prym u. Socin, Kurdische Sammlungen, Petersburg Academy, translation, p. 101.]
127, note *, III, 509 a. Italian ballad (sword reduced to a straw). Bernoni, Trad. pop. veneziane, p. 36; Ferraro, Canti pop. di Ferrara, pp. 56, 103; Villario, in Archivio, XI, 35; Menghini, Canzoni pop. romane, in Sabatini, Il Volgo di Roma, I, 75 ff.
[127 f., 511 b, III, 509 a. Table-jumping.
Et chil Robert d’Artois n’i fist arestement, La table tressali tost et apertement; Au conte Salebrin ala premierement.
The Vows of the Heron (about 1340), Wright, Political Poems, I, 9 f.]
[128. ‘Ebbe Skammelsøn’ is now No 354 in the Grundtvig-Olrik collection of Danish ballads, Ridderviser, I, 197 ff. 8 Danish versions are printed (some of which go back to MSS of the 17th century), with a very elaborate introduction and critical apparatus. Dr. Olrik regards the extant Norwegian texts as derived from print. He enumerates 8 Swedish versions.]
67. Glasgerion.
P. 137, II, 511 f. Soporific effect of harping: cf. Revue celtique, XII, 81, 109, XV, 438. G. L. K.
69. Clerk Saunders.
P. 166. Stanzas 30-37 are inserted in Buchan’s first MS. on a separate slip of paper, and at 29, where the ballad originally ended, there is this note: “See the additional stanzas on the annexed leaf.” W. Walker.
72. The Clerk’s Twa Sons o Owsenford.
P. 174, note *. ‘Dass Schloss in Oesterreich,’ etc.: see Böhme’s Erk, No 61^{a-g}; Frischbier u. Sembrzychi, Hundert Ostpreussiche Volkslieder, No 16, p. 26; Becker, Rheinischer Volksliederborn, No 2, a, b, c, p. 2 ff.; Wolfram, No 44, p. 71; Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, XI, 218, No 81.
73. Lord Thomas and Fair Annet.
P. 181, III, 510 b, IV, 469 a, V, 223 b. Add to the Southern ballads ‘Le mariage tragique,’ Beauquier, Chansons p. recueillies en Franche-comté, p. 81; ‘Las bodas,’ Milá, Romancerillo Catalan, p. 257, No 262. (In this last, ‘vert marca esperansa.’)
74. Fair Margaret and Sweet William.
P. 199. Communicated by Miss Mary E. Burleigh, of Worcester, Massachusetts, and derived, through a relative, from her great-grandmother, who had heard the ballad sung at gatherings of young people in Webster, Massachusetts, not long after 1820.
1 There was such a man as King William, there was, And he courted a lady fair, He courted such a lady as Lady Margaret, For a whole long twelve-month year.
2 Said he, ‘I’m not the man for you, Nor you the maid for me, But before many, many long months My wedding you shall see.’
3 Said she, ‘If I’m not the maid for you, Nor you the man for me, Before many, many long days My funeral you shall see.’
4 Lady Margaret sat in a green shady bower, A combing her yellow, yellow hair, When who should she see but King William and his bride, And to church they did repair.
5 She threw all down her ivory comb, Threw back her yellow hair, And to the long chamber she did go, And for dying she did prepare.
6 King William had a dream that night, Such dreams as scarce prove true: He dreamed that Lady Margaret was dead, And her ghost appeared to view.
7 ‘How do you like your bed?’ said she, ‘And how do you like your sheets? And how do you like the fair lady That’s in your arms and sleeps?’
8 ‘Well do I like my bed,’ said he, ‘And well do I like my sheets, But better do I like the fair lady That’s in my arms and sleeps.’
9 King William rose early the next morn, Before the break of day, Saying, ‘Lady Margaret I will go see, Without any more delay.’
10 He rode till he came to Lady Margaret’s hall, And rapped long and loud on the ring, But there was no one there but Lady Margaret’s brother To let King William in.
11 ‘Where, O where is Lady Margaret? Pray tell me how does she do.’ ‘Lady Margaret is dead in the long chamber, She died for the love of you.’
12 ‘Fold back, fold back that winding sheet, That I may look on the dead, That I may kiss those clay-cold lips That once were the cherry-red.’
13 Lady Margaret died in the middle of the night, King William died on the morrow, Lady Margaret died of pure true love, King William died of sorrow.
14 Lady Margaret was buried in King William’s church-yard, All by his own desire, And out of her grave grew a double red rose And out of hisn a briar.
15 They grew so high, they grew so tall, That they could grow no higher; They tied themselves in a true-lover’s knot, And both fell down together.
16 Now all ye young that pass this way, And see these two lovers asleep, ’Tis enough to break the hardest heart, And bring them here to weep.
199 f. Mallet and ‘Sweet William.’ Full particulars in W. L. Phelps, The Beginnings of the English Romantic Movement, 1893, p. 177 ff.
75. Lord Lovel.
P. 204 f., note †, 512 b, IV, 471 a, V, 225 a. Add: Wolfram, p. 87, No 61, ‘Es spielte ein Ritter mit einer Madam.’
205 b, note *. The Swedish ballad (p. 71 f. of the publication mentioned) is defective at the end, and altogether amounts to very little.
[206. =Romaic.= Add: ‘La belle Augiranouda,’ Georgeakis et Pineau, Folk-lore de Lesbos, p. 223 f.]
206 a, and note *. Add: Wolfram, No 28, p. 55, ‘Es war ein Jäger wohlgemut,’ and ‘Jungfer Dörtchen,’ Blätter für Pommersche Volkskunde, II. Jahrgang, p. 12.
211, =H.= I have received a copy recited by a lady in Cambridge, Massachusetts, which was evidently derived from print, and differs but slightly from a, omitting 8^{3, 4}, 9^{1, 2}.
76. The Lass of Roch Royal.
P. 215. ‘Germaine’: see Daymard, p. 170; Revue des Traditions populaires, III, 364; Beauquier, Chansons pop. recueillies en Franche-Comté, p. 259.
77. Sweet William’s Ghost.
P. 228 f., 233, 239, III, 514, IV, 474. Of the succession of three cocks, white, red, black (reduced to two in English ballads), see R. Köhler, Der weisse, der rothe und der schwarze Hahn, Germania, XI, 85-92. [So in the tale ‘L’Andromède et les Démons,’ Georgeakis et Pineau, Folk-lore de Lesbos, p. 82 f.]
228, note †. Two or three additions in Böhme’s Erk, I, 598 ff., No 197, c, d, g.
78. The Unquiet Grave.
P. 235 a, last paragraph. Servian ballad in which a child’s shirt is wet with its mother’s tears, Rajković, p. 143, No 186, ‘Dete Lovzar i majka mu’ (‘The child and his mother’).
[235. Tears burning the dead. Professor Lanman furnishes the following interesting parallel from the Mahābhārata, XI, 43 ff.: Dhṛtarāṣṭra is lamenting for his fallen sons. His charioteer says;--The face that thou wearest, covered with falling tears, is not approved by the sacred books; nor do wise men praise it. For they [the tears], like sparks, ’tis said, do burn those men (for whom they’re shed).]
79. The Wife of Usher’s Well.
[P. 238, III, 513. Communicated, 1896, by Miss Emma M. Backus, of North Carolina, who notes that it has long been sung by the “poor whites” in the mountains of Polk County in that State. It has the mother’s prayer for the return of her children, as in =C=, III, 513, but is in other respects much nearer to =A=. In the last stanza we should doubtless read “They wet our winding sheet,” or the like. In 4^3 the MS. has _louely_ or _lonely_, perhaps meant for _lovely_.
1 There was a lady fair and gay, And children she had three: She sent them away to some northern land, For to learn their grammeree.
2 They hadn’t been gone but a very short time, About three months to a day, When sickness came to that land And swept those babes away.
3 There is a king in the heavens above That wears a golden crown: She prayed that he would send her babies home To-night or in the morning soon.
4 It was about one Christmas time, When the nights was long and cool, She dreamed of her three little lonely babes Come running in their mother’s room.
5 The table was fixed and the cloth was spread, And on it put bread and wine: ‘Come sit you down, my three little babes, And eat and drink of mine.’
6 ‘We will neither eat your bread, dear mother, Nor we’ll neither drink your wine; For to our Saviour we must return To-night or in the morning soon.’
7 The bed was fixed in the back room; On it was some clean white sheet, And on the top was a golden cloth, To make those little babies sleep.
8 ‘Wake up! wake up!’ says the oldest one, ‘Wake up! it’s almost day. And to our Saviour we must return To-night or in the morning soon.’
9 ‘Green grass grows at our head, dear mother, Green moss grows at our feet; The tears that you shed for us three babes Won’t wet our winding sheet.’]
80. Old Robin of Portingale.
[P. 240. Dr. Axel Olrik thinks that this ballad is related to the Danish ballad ‘Utro Fæstemø vil forgive sin Fæstemand,’ No 345 in the Grundtvig-Olrik collection (Ridderviser, I, 167, note *), which he refers for its origin to the story of the Lombard queen Rosemunda (see note on ‘Lord Randal,’ No 12, p. 286, above). The drink promised to Old Robin by his wife Dr Olrik thinks may indicate that the English ballad was once more similar to the Danish than it is in the version which we possess.]
87. Prince Robert.
P. 284. A mother prepares wholesome drink for her son, poison for his wife; both son and wife are poisoned. They are buried separately, one in the church, one in the graveyard. Trees from their graves join their tops. White Russian, Šejn, I, I, 444, No 544, 447-51, Nos 546-9; Hiltebrandt, p. 64, No 65; Kupčanko, ‘Vdova otravljaet nevěstu,’ p. 255, No 300. Ruthenian, Kolberg, Pokucie, II, 41, No 48.
90. Jellon Grame.
P. 303 b, 513 b, III, 515 b, IV, 479 b, V, 226 a.
Vol’ga, Volch, of the Russian _bylinas_, must have a high place among the precocious heroes. When he was an hour and a half old his voice was like thunder, and at five years of age he made the earth tremble under his tread. At seven he had learned all cunning and wisdom, and all the languages. Dobrynya is also to be mentioned. See Wollner, Volksepik der Grossrussen, pp. 47 f., 91.
Simon the Foundling in the fine Servian heroic song of that name, Karadžić, II, 63, No 14, Talvj, I, 71, when he is a year old is like other children of three; when he is twelve like others of twenty, and wonderfully learned, with no occasion to be afraid of any scholar, not even the abbot. (Cf. ‘The Lord of Lorne,’ V, 54, 9, 10.)
Other cases, Revue Celtique, XII, 63; Wardrop, Georgian Folk Tales, No 6, p. 26. G. L. K. [Lady Guest’s Mabinogion, III, 32, 65; 201, 232; Firdusi, Livre des Rois, Mohl, 1838, I, 353 ff. A. and A. Schott, Walachische Märchen, p. 265 (cf. A. Wirth, Danae in christlichen Legenden, p. 34). F. N. Robinson. See also von Wlislocki, M. u. S. der Bukowinaer u. Siebenbürger Armenier, No 24, p. 65; Jacottet, Contes pop. des Bassoutos, p. 196 f.; Georgeakis et Pineau, Folk-lore de Lesbos, p. 168.]
93. Lamkin.
Pp. 320-42, III, 515, IV, 480 f., V, 229 f.
Denham, Tracts, II, 190, refers to a Northumbrian version of the ballad which associated Long Lonkin with Nafferton Castle in the parish of Ovingham. He also gives a story, obtained from an old man in Newcastle, according to which Long Lonkin is no mason but a gentleman, who kills the lady and her one child because the lord of Nafferton had been preferred to him. The husband, abandoning his journey to London on account of a misgiving that all was not right at home, after finding his wife and child dead, hunts down the murderer, who drops from a tree in which he had concealed himself into a pool, thence called Long Lonkin’s pool, and is drowned.
Communicated by Mr. W. W. Newell, with the superscription (by the original transcriber, Miss Emma M. Backus) “as sung in Newbern, North Carolina, seventy-five years ago” (1895).
1 John Lankin was a good mason As ever laid a stone; He built Lord Arnold’s castle And the lord he paid him none.
2 John Lankin then swore, If the lord did not pay him, He would break into his castle And murder all his kinsmen.
3 Lord Arnold soon did hear Of John Lankin’s threat so dour; He did guard all his castle With soldiers every hour.
4 He said to his lady, ‘I am going away from home, And what should you do If John Lankin should come?’
5 ‘I care not for John Lankin, Or any of his kin; I will bar all my doors And I’ll pin my windows in.’
6 The doors were all barrd And the windows pinned in, And out of the kitchen-window The nurse she let him in.
7 He killed the good lady With a cowardly cruel blow, And threw her pretty baby To the dank moat below.
8 John Lankin was hung On the gallows so high, And the nurse she was chained In a dungeon to die.
95. The Maid freed from the Gallows.
P. 346 f., III, 516 a, IV, 481 a, V, 231 a. Michele Barbi, Poesia popolare pistoiese, p. 9, found a fragment of Scibilia Nobili at Plan dagli Ontani under the name of Violina, and Giannini’s ‘Prigioniera’ (III, 516 a), otherwise ‘Mosettina,’ under the name Violina,’ ‘Brunetta,’ etc.
The following copy was communicated by Mr W. W. Newell, as derived from Miss Emma M. Backus, North Carolina, who says: “This is an old English song, in the Yorkshire dialect, which was brought over to Virginia before the Revolution. It has not been written for generations, for none of the family have been able to read or write.” Miss Backus adds that the pronunciation indicated is by no means that which is ordinarily used by the people who sing this ballad. It will, however, be noted that the Yorkshire dialect is not well preserved.
THE HANGMAN’S TREE.
1 ‘Hangman, hangman, howd yo hand, O howd it wide and far! For theer I see my feyther coomin, Riding through the air.
2 ‘Feyther, feyther, ha yo brot me goold? Ha yo paid my fee? Or ha yo coom to see me hung, Beneath tha hangman’s tree?’
3 ‘I ha naw brot yo goold, I ha naw paid yo fee, But I ha coom to see yo hung Beneath tha hangman’s tree.’
4, 5, } meyther } 7, 8, } _as in_ 1, 2, _substituting_ sister } _for_ feyther 10, 11 } sweetheart}
6, 9, _as in_ 3.
12 ‘Oh I ha brot yo goold, And I ha paid yo fee, And I ha coom to take yo froom Beneath tha hangman’s tree.’
3^4. hangmens.
4^3. mither.
5^2. Or ha.
5^3. hang.
5^4, 8^4, 11^4. gallows tree.
12^3. An.
12^4. the.
348 b. =German.= Böhme, in his edition of Erk’s Liederhort, I, 277, adds a copy, from singing, dated 1878, ‘Die Losgekaufte,’ No 78 e.
349 f., 514 a, III, 516 b. A young man in prison bought out by his sweetheart, father, mother, etc., refusing help: Little Russian, Romanov, I, 63, No 2; Croatian, Valjavec, p. 303, No 19, ‘Junak vu Madjarski vuzi;’ Great Russian, Jakuškin, p. 147 f.; Ruthenian, Kolberg, Pokucie, II, 226 f., Nos 418, 420. Woman rescued by lover from Tatar who was about to kill her, the blood-relations declining: Romanov, I, 53, No 105.
514 a. In Nesselmann’s Littauische Volkslieder, No 119, p. 96, and Bartsch’s Dainu Balsai, I, 147, No 107, II, 202, No 321 (from Bezzenberger, Litauische Forschungen, p. 17, No 27), we have a ballad of a youth who does not get release from confinement though his blood relations lay down handsomely for him, but in the end is freed by his sweetheart with a trifle of a ring or a garland. In Bartsch, I, 63, No 53, a girl who has been shut up nine years is let alone by her father and her brother, but liberated by her lover; II, 296, Ulmann, Lettische Volkslieder, p. 168, relations make an attempt to buy off a conscript, without success, but his sweetheart effects his release by selling her garland. Silly stories all.
96. The Gay Goshawk.
P. 356, III, 517 a, IV, 482 a, V, 234 a. Chanson du Roi Loys, ou de la Belle dans la Tour. Add ‘Le Prince qui torture sa Fille,’ Beauquier, Chansons p. recueillies en Franche-Comté, p. 147; copy from Normandy, copy from Savoy, Revue des Traditions populaires, X, 641 f.
356 b, III, 517 a, IV, 482, V, 234 a. ‘Les trois capitaines.’ Add: ‘Au château de Belfort,’ Beauquier, pp. 59 f., 369 f.
III, 517 b. Girl feigns death to avoid a disagreeable suitor; test of water, fire, and hand in bosom, which last is the hardest to bear: ‘Vojvoda Janko i mlada Andjelija,’ Hrvatske Pjesme iz “Naše Sloge,” II, 65, No 68.
100. Willie o Winsbury.
P. 399, note. The ballad need not be older than the 16th century. Drop “but it was hardly,” etc.
104. Prince Heathen.
P. 424 b. It is more commonly the lady that is rolled in silk; the son is laid, dressed, rolled in silk, No 5, =C=, 82, No 20, =C=, 8 of the places cited (=C=, 83, =E=, 32, are to be dropped), and No 104, =B=, 14.
112. The Baffled Knight.
II, 479 a. The Complete Collection of Old and New English and Scotch Songs, 1735, a rare book, is in the library of the British Museum, and Mr Round, who has kindly examined it for me, informs me that all the ballads in it are repetitions from earlier publications; in the present case of =B=, from Pills to purge Melancholy.
481 b, IV, 495 a. Add ‘Il fallait plumer la perdrix,’ Beauquier, Chansons p. recueillies en Franche-Comté, p. 303.
481 b, III, 518 a, IV, 495 a, V, 239 b. Tears: add ‘L’Amant timide,’ Beauquier, Chansons p. recueillies en Franche-Comté’, p. 180; La Tradition, 1895, p. 69.
483 b, V, 240 a. La Batelière rusée in Beauquier, Chansons populaires recueillies en Franche-Comté, p. 40.
Slavic ballads of similar tenor (Servian), Rajković, ‘Mudra devojka,’ p. 16, No 23, ‘Lukava čobanka,’ p. 129, No 173.
VOL. III.
116. Adam Bell, etc.
P. 22. Translated after the original text by Professor Emilio Teza: ‘I tre Banditi,’ Padova, 1894.
26, 87^1. I regret having changed ‘an oute-horne,’ which is the reading in all the texts which have the stanza (=b=-=f=), to ‘a noute-home.’ Oute horne was originally given, and therefore this reading was not entered in the variations of =c=-=f=, as should have been done later, when the reading ‘a noute-home’ was adopted.
117. A Gest of Robyn Hode.
P. 43, note §. Right-hitting Brand is one of the attendants of Robin in A. Munday’s Metropolis Coronata (1615), Fairholt, Pageants, I, 40. J. M. Manly.
52 and note. See further on Le prêt miraculeusement remboursé, M. René Basset, in Revue des Traditions populaires, IX, 14-31.
54. Mr Macmath has sent me a transcript of another copy of the song in Deuteromelia which exhibits some variations. It was found April 5, 1895, in a bundle of papers that had belonged to John, Duke of Roxburghe. This copy is in a 17th century hand, and at the end is written: “This song was esteemed an old song before the rebellion broke out in 1641.”
76, st. 412. The first two verses should be corrected according to =f=, =g=, thus:
‘Mercy,’ then said Robyn to our kynge, ‘Vnder this.’
120. Robin Hood’s Death.
P. 103, note *, V, 240. Communion-bread called God (Lord). “For it was about Easter, at what times maidens gadded abroade, after they had taken their Maker, as they call it.” Wilson, Arte of Logike, fol. 84 b. J. M. Manly.
“In oure louerd þat he had ynome wel ioyful he was þo.” St Edmund the Confessor, v. 573, Furnivall, Early English Poems, Philol. Soc., p. 86. “Preostes ... fette to þis holi maide godes flesch and his blod.” St Lucy, v. 168, _ib._ p. 106. G. L. K.
103, note †. The met-yard, being a necessary part of an archer’s equipment for such occasions as p. 29, 148, 158; p. 75, 397; p. 93, 28; p. 201, 18, 21, may well enough be buried with him.
104. Russian. Similar directions as to the grave in Jakuškin, p. 99.
123. Robin Hood and The Curtal Friar.
P. 128 a, v. 80. The reading should be
Now am I, frere, without, and thou, Robyn, within:
otherwise there is no change in their relative plight.
125. Robin Hood and Little John.
P. 133 a. There is a black-letter copy, printed by and for W. Onley, in Lord Crawford’s collection, No 1320; the date put at 1680-85. A white-letter copy in Roxburghe, III, 728. See Ebsworth’s Roxburghe Ballads, VIII, 504.
155. Sir Hugh or the Jew’s Daughter.
[241 a. The Life and Miracles of St William of Norwich have been edited by Drs Jessopp and James.]
156. Queen Eleanor’s Confession.
P. 258 b, 3d paragraph. The Danish ballad is printed in Dania, II, 275, 1893: ‘Vise om Caroline Mathilde,’ derived from an old lady who in childhood had heard it sung by a peasant girl, about 50 years before the publication.
159. Durham Field.
P. 283 a. Knights wearing the king’s armor in battle. This was naturally frequently done. So John at Poitiers had twenty in his “parements,” Froissart (Buchon), III, 186, and Charles VIII a good number at Fornovo, Daniel, Histoire de France, VIII, 222.
161. The Battle of Otterburn.
Pp. 294, 520 a, IV, 499, V, 244 b. St George Our Lady’s Knight. Add: Torrent of Portyngale, v. 1677: E. Flügel, Neuenglisches Lesebuch, I, 441.
162. The Hunting of the Cheviot.
P. 306 a, 38 f. Motherwell has cited an apt passage from the romance of Alisaunder which may well be repeated.
Ac theo deol that Alisaunder made No may Y nought fully rede. Darie starf in his armes two: Lord that Alisaunder was wo! He wrong his hondes saun faile, Ofte he cried and ofte he uaile: Y wolde Y hadde al Perce y-geve, With that Y myghte have thy lif!
Weber, Kyng Alisaunder vv. 4648-55.
P. 306, st. 54, IV, 502, V, 244. Hrafn fights after Gunnlaugr has hewn off his feet: Gunnlaugs saga Ormstungu, ed. Mogk, p. 27. W. H. Schofield.
Note †. The Highlander is paralleled by an Indian in The Observations of Sir Richard Hawkins, Markham, The Hawkins’ Voyages, Hakluyt Society, p. 243, and by Mordred in Malory’s Morte Darthur, ed. Sommer, Bk 21, ch. 4. G. L. K.
168. Flodden Field.
P. 351 b (12, lapt all in leather), IV, 507 a. The dying witch of Berkeley says to her children: Insuite me corio cervino, deinde in sarcophago lapideo supinate, operculum plumbo et ferro constringite. William of Malmesbury, Gesta Regum Anglorum, ed. Stubbs, Bk 2, I, 254, § 204.
169. Johnie Armstrong.
[P. 367. Johnie’s plain speech to the king. So in Li Charrois de Nymes, v. 283, in Jonkbloet, Guillaume d’Orange, I, 80: “Et dit Guillaumes, ‘Dans rois, vos i mentez.’”]
367, and note. The Baron of Brackley’s son (No 203), set on the nurse’s knee, uses nearly the same words as Johnie Armstrong’s in =B=, 24. M. Gaidoz, Mélusine, VII, 70, cites from Hone the passage in No 54 (=B=, 5, 6, see also =A=, 5, 6, =D=, 4, 5), in which Jesus speaks from his mother’s womb. See further Mélusine, IV, 447, V, 36, 257, VI, 92.
170. The Death of Queen Jane.
P. 372-6. Appendix. ‘The Duke of Bedford,’ Longman’s Magazine, XVII, 217, 1890, “sent from Suffolk,” is one half (sts 5-8) a plagiarism from ‘The Death of Queen Jane.’ Compare =A=, 5, 6, =B=, 8, =C=, 5, 6, =D= 6 of Queen Jane with what follows. The remainder of ‘The Duke of Bedford’ is so trivial that it is not worth the while at present to assign that piece its own place. I have not attempted to identify this duke of Bedford; any other duke would probably answer as well.
THE DUKE OF BEDFORD.
1 Six lords went a-hunting down by the seaside, And they spied a dead body washed away by the tide.
2 Said one to the other, ‘As I’ve heard them say, ’Tis the famous Duke of Bedford, by the tide washed away.’
3 They took him up to Portsmouth, to the place where he was born, From Portsmouth up to London, to the place where he was known.
4 They took out his bowels and laid down his feet, And they garnished his body with roses so sweet.
5 Six lords went before him, six bare him from the ground, Eight dukes followed after, in their black velvet gowns.
6 . . . . . . . . . . And the Royal Princess Mary went weeping away.
7 So black was the funeral and so white were their fans, And so pretty were the flamboys that they carried in their hands.
8 The drums they did beat and the trumpets they did sound, And the great guns they did rattle as they put him in the ground.
173. Mary Hamilton.
P. 382. The passages following relate to the affair of the Frenchwoman and the apothecary. Calendar of State Papers, Foreign Series, of the Reign of Elizabeth, 1563. (Indicated to me by Mr Andrew Lang.)
The Queen’s apothecary got one of her maidens, a Frenchwoman, with child. Thinking to have covered his fault with medicine, the child was slain. They are both in prison, and she is so much offended that it is thought they shall both die. Randolph to Cecil, Edinburgh, 21 Dec., 1563, p. 637. The apothecary and the woman he got with child were both hanged this Friday. Randolph to Cecil, Dec. 31, 1563, p. 650.
The heroine of this ballad is Mary Hamilton in all copies in which she has a full name, that is, twelve out of the twenty-four which have any name; Mary simply, or Mary mild,[127] is found in eleven copies, and Maisry in one. Finding in the history of the court of Peter the Great an exact counterpart of the story of the ballad with a maid of honor named Mary Hamilton filling the tragic _rôle_, and “no trace of an admixture of the Russian story with that of the Frenchwoman and the queen’s apothecary,” I felt compelled to admit that Sharpe’s suggestion of the Russian origin of the ballad was, however surprising, the only tenable opinion (III, 382 f.). Somewhat later a version of the ballad (=U=) was found at Abbotsford in which there is mention of the apothecary and of the practices for which he suffered in 1568, and this fact furnished ground for reopening the question (which, nevertheless, was deferred).
Mr Andrew Lang has recently subjected the matter of the origin of the ballad to a searching review (in Blackwood’s Magazine, September, 1895, p. 381 ff.). Against the improbability that an historical event of 1718-9 should by simple chance coincide, very minutely and even to the inclusion of the name of the principal actor, with what is related in a ballad ostensibly recounting an event in the reign of Mary Stuart, he sets the improbability that a ballad, older and superior in style to anything which we can show to have been produced in the 18th, or even the 17th century,[128] should have been composed after 1719, a ballad in which a contemporary occurrence in a foreign and remote country would be transferred to Scotland and Queen Mary’s day, and so treated as to fit perfectly into the circumstances of the time: and this while the ballad might entirely well have been evolved from a notorious domestic occurrence of the date 1563, the adventure of Queen Mary’s French maid and the apothecary--which has now turned out to be introduced into one version of the ballad.[129]
I wish to avow that the latter improbability, as put by Mr Lang, has come to seem to me considerably greater than the former.
The coincidence of the name of the heroine is indeed at first staggering; but it will be granted that of all the “honorable houses” no one might more plausibly supply a forgotten maid of honor than the house of Hamilton. The Christian name is a matter of course for a Queen’s Mary.
384 ff., IV, 507 ff., V, 246 f.
BB.
THE QUEEN’S MARIES.
Communicated by Mr Andrew Lang as received from Mrs Arthur Smith; sung by a nurse. 4 is clearly modern.
1 Yestreen the queen had four Maries, But the nicht she’ll hae but three; There was Mary Beaton, and Mary Seaton, And Mary Carmichell, and me.
2 Oh little did my mither think, At nicht when she cradled me, That I wad sleep in a nameless grave And hang on the gallows-tree. Yestreen, etc.
3 They’ll tie a kerchief round my een, And they’ll na let me see t’dee, And they’ll spread my story thro a’ the land, Till it reaches my ain countrie.
4 I wish I micht sleep in the auld kirkyard, Beneath the hazel tree, Where aft we played in the long simmer nichts, My brithers and sisters and me.
176. Northumberland betrayed by Douglas.
P. 411 a. Looking through a ring. “The Dul Dauna put a ring to his eye, and he saw his grandfather on the deck walking.” Larminie, West Irish Folk-Tales, p. 9. G. L. K.
177. The Earl of Westmoreland.
P. 417. Dr W. H. Schofield suggests that the romance imitated in the second part of this ballad is, Libeaus Desconus. There the hero, who is but a child in years (in the ballad he has a child’s voice), comes to a fair city by a river side, the lady of which is besieged by a giant, black as pitch. Libeaus undertakes to fight the giant, and is received by him with disdainful language. The fight is “beside the water brim.” They break their spears at the first encounter; then fight on foot with swords. Libeaus strikes off the giant’s head and carries it into the town; the people come out to meet him “with a fair procession,” and the lady invites him to be her lord in city and castle. Compare the ballad, etc., 54-78, and Libeaus Desconus, v. 1321 ff. [See Dr Schofield’s Studies on the Libeaus Desconus, p. 242, in Studies and Notes in Philology and Literature published under the direction of the Modern Language Departments of Harvard University, Vol. IV.]
178. Captain Car, or, Edom o Gordon.
IV, 513 b, =H= 2^4. Mr Macmath is convinced that the missing (illegible) word is _orghie_ (orgeis=a fish, a large kind of ling).
182. The Laird o Logie.
P. 456. Buchan’s original MS. p. 216 ff., ‘The Laird o Logie.’
1 Lady Margaret carries the keys o the cellar, I wyte she carries them carefullie; Nae other ane her favour coud gain But the winsome laird o young Logie.
2 When the king gat word o that, I wat an angry man was he; He’s casten him into prison strong, And sware high hanged he shoud be.
3 Lady Margaret tore her yellow hair, She’s torn it out locks three by three; Says, ‘Wae to the day I eer was born, Or knew the young laird o Logie.’
4 ‘Now hold your tongue,’ the queen she said, ‘And ye’ll let a’ your folly be; I hae minded me on a wyle Will gain the life o young Logie.’
5 Then she has done her up the stairs, And she fell low down on her knee; ‘Win up, win up, my dame the queen, What makes ye bow sae low to me?’
6 ‘O do you mind when we were wed, Ye promisd askings three by three? And a’ the boun that I now crave Is, Save the life o young Logie.
7 ‘If ye had asked lands, my dame, Ye might had askings three by three; But a’ the lands in fair Scotland Winna save the life o young Logie.’
8 Then she has done her down the stairs, But nae gude tidings brought her wi; The king has sworn a solemn oath, And broken it can never be.
9 ‘Hold your tongue, Margaret,’ said the queen, ‘And ye’ll lat a’ your folly be; I’ll mind me on another wyle To gain the life o young Logie.’
10 She’s counterfeit the king’s hand write, And she has stole his right glove tee; And sent the jailors strict command To loose and set young Logie free.
11 She sent him a bag o gude red gowd, Another bag o white monie; Likewise a pistol by his side, And bade him shoot when he wan free.
12 As he passd by the queen’s window, He fell low down upon his knee; Says, ‘Peace be wi the queen hersell, And joy be in her companie.’
13 As he passd by the king’s window, There a proud volley then gae he; Says, ‘Hang your dogs when ye think time, For ye’se neer hang him, young Logie.’
14 Out then speaks the king himsell, I wyte a solemn oath sware he; ‘I’ll wad my head an my crown baith, I hear the voice o young Logie.’
15 The king he calld his jailors all, He called them then three by three; Says, ‘How are the prisoners ane and a’? Where is the laird o young Logie?’
16 ‘Did you not send your ain hand write? Did you not send your right glove tee? We took the keys o the jail-house door, And loosd and set young Logie free.’
17 Then out it speaks the king again, I wyte an angry man was he; ‘The morn, before I eat or drink, High hanged shall you jailors be.’
18 Then out it speaks the queen hersell, I wyte a light laugh then gae she; ‘If ye’re to hang them ane and a’, I fear ye will begin wi me.
19 ‘Did I not steal your ain hand write? Did I not steal your right glove tee? Then sent the jailors strict command To loose an’ set young Logie free.’
190. Jamie Telfer.
P. 5 a first paragraph. However, “in the list of Border thieves made in the year 1552, William Patrick, the priest, and John Nelson, the curate of Bewcastle, are both included”: Denham Tracts, I, 150. This shows that the society was homogeneous.
191. Hughie Grame.
P. 14, =E.= Between 12 and 13 follows in Buchan’s original MS.:
Ye’ll tell this news to Maggy my wife, The first time ye gang oer the muir, She is the cause I loose my life: She bade me steal the bishop’s mare.
192. The Lochmaben Harper.
P. 21. =E= has in Buchan’s original MS. this refrain at the end of the verse:
Hey, didentie, didentie, didentie (_bis_).
196. The Fire of Frendraught.
P. 41, note ‡. Read: The peerage of Aboyne was first created in 1626, in favor of John Gordon, fifth son of the first Marquis of Huntly (Viscount of Aboyne and Melgum in 1627). He married Sophia Hay, a daughter of Francis, Earl of Errol, The Records of Aboyne, edited by the Marquis of Huntly, New Spalding Club; 1894, pp. 325, 526.
V, 251 b, P. 44. In “But Rothiemay lie,” _may_ seems to have been accidentally omitted. The “Turn” in Scott was probably meant for Twin, the dot of i being omitted.
200. The Gypsy Laddie.
P. 61 ff., V, 252. The three stanzas which follow are given in H. A. Kennedy’s “Professor Blackie: his Sayings and Doings, London, 1895” as they were sung by Marion Stodart, Professor Blackie’s aunt, to her sister’s children. P. 12 f. (Communicated by Mr David MacRitchie, of Edinburgh.)
There were seven gypsies all in a row, And they were brisk and bonny; O They sang till they came to the Earl o Cassilis’ gate, And there they sang sae sweetly. O
They sang sae sweet and sae complete That doun came the fair leddy; And when they saw her weel-faured face They cast the glamour ower her.
So she’s taen off her high-heeled shoes, That are made o the Spanish leather, And she’s put on her Highland brogues, To skip amang the heather.
“On the discovery of which the earl’ saddled to him his milk-white steed,’ and rested not till he had hanged the seven gypsies on a tree.”
O _at the end of the second and the fourth verse of each stanza_.
216. The Mother’s Malison, etc.
P. 186 f. In ‘Majčina kletva,’ Hrvatske Pjesme iz “Naše Sloge,” II, 22, No 18, two lovers go off in a boat, under a mother’s curse, and are both drowned.
229. Earl Crawford.
P. 280 a, =A=, =b=. =b= was written down March 25, 1890.
234. Charlie MacPherson.
P. 310. Mr Walker of Aberdeen suggests that Billy Beg in 3 should be Bellabeg, a small property in Strathdon. It will be observed that two other men in the same stanza are named by their estates.
235. The Earl of Aboyne.
P. 311 b, omit the paragraph beginning =J=, and say: Charles, first Earl of Aboyne, married for his first wife Margaret Irvine of Drum, who died in December, 1662. (The Records of Aboyne, edited by the Marquis of Huntly, New Spalding Club, 1894, p. 552.) The story of the ballad, so far as is known, is an absolute fiction.
In vol. ii of _Retours_ or Services of Heirs, No 4906 (Aberdeen), 17 June, 1665, there is the entry: Domina Anna Gordoun, hæres Dominæ Margaretæ Irving, sponsæ Comitis de Aboyne matris. (Mr Walker of Aberdeen.)
311, V, 270. Mr Macmath has sent me this stall-copy, printed by J. Morren, Cowgate, Edinburgh.
PEGGY IRVINE.
1 Our lady stands in her chamber-door, viewing the Grahams are a coming; She knew by the light of their livery so red they were new come down from London.
2 She called on her chambermaid, and Jeany her gentlewoman: You’ll dress my body in some fine dress, for yon is my good lord a coming.
3 Her smock was of the holland so fine, her body round with busting; Her shoes were of the small corded twine, and her stockings silk and twisting.
4 Her petticoats was of the silk so fine, set out with the silver and scolloping; Her gown was of the red damask silk so fine, trimmed with the red gold gold mounting.
5 ‘You guildery maids, come trim up my gauze, and make them silver shining; With strawberry flowers cover all my bowers, and hang them round with the linen.
6 ‘Ye minstrels all, be on our call when you see his horses coming; With music spring, spare not your string when you hear his bridles ringing.’
7 She called on Meg her chamber-maid, and Jeanny her gentlewoman: ‘Go bring me a bottle of the good Spanish wine, for to drink his health that’s coming.’
8 She gently tripped down the stair, and away to the gate to meet him: ‘You are welcome, you lord of the Boyne, you are welcome home from London.’
9 ‘If this be so, come let me know, come kiss me for my coming; For tomorrow should have been my wedding-day if I had staid in London.’
10 She gave the glass out of her hand, she was a woeful woman: ‘If the morrow should be your wedding-day, Go back to your whores in London.’
11 He looked oer his right shoulder, his comely court behind him: ‘This is a merry welcome’ he says, ‘that we have got from London.
12 ‘To your horse, to your horse, my nobles all, to your horse, let us be going; This night we’ll lodge in Drummond castle, and tomorrow we’ll march to London.’
13 Now this lady has fallen sick, and doctors we her dealing, But at length her heart did break, and letters sent to London.
14 He took the letter in his hand, and loud, loud was he laughing, But before he read it to an end, the tears did come down rapping.
15 ‘To your horse, to your horse, my nobles all, to your horse, let’s be going; To your horse, let us all go in black, and mourn for Peggy Irvine.’
16 When he came to his own castle-gate, the knight was weary weeping: ‘Cheer up your heart, you lord of Boyne, your lady is but sleeping.’
17 ‘Sleeping deary, sleeping dow, I’m afraid she’s oer sound sleeping; It’s I had rather lost all the lands of the Boyne before I would have lost Peggy Irvine.’
* * * * *
4^2. set out out.
10^3. If he.
238. Glenlogie, or, Jean o Bethelnie.
P. 338 b, 2d paragraph. As to the name Melville, Mr Walker of Aberdeen remarks: If Buchan’s story (given in his notes) of the Glenlogie incident were correct, the maiden’s name must have been Seaton, and not Melville, the Seatons and Urquharts being the only two names which in historical times could be called lairds of Meldrum or Bethelnie.
248. The Grey Cock, or, Saw you my Father?
P. 390. Add to the French ballads ‘Le voltigeur fidèle,’ Beauquier, Chansons p. recueillies en Franche-Comté, p. 338.
250. Henry Martyn.
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.
1 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.
2 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.
3 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.
4 ‘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.’
5 ‘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.’
6 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.
7 ‘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.’
8 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.
9 ‘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.’
10 ‘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.’
11 ‘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.’
12 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.
13 ‘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.’
* * * * *
2^1, 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.”
1 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.
2 Jenny couldnt in the kitchen to go, For fear of dirting her white-heeled shoes
3 Jenny couldn’t wash, and Jenny couldn’t bake, For fear of dirting her white apurn tape.
4 Jenny couldn’t card, and Jenny couldn’t spin, For fear of hurting her gay gold ring.
5 Sweet William came whistling in from plaow, Says, ‘O my dear wife, is my dinner ready naow?’
6 She called him a dirty paltry whelp: ‘If you want any dinner, go get it yourself.’
7 Sweet William went aout unto the sheep-fold, And aout a fat wether he did pull.
8 And daown on his knees he began for to stick, And quicklie its skin he thereof did strip.
9 He took the skin and laid on his wife’s back, And with a good stick went whikety whack.
10 ‘I’ll tell my father and all my kin How still a quarrel you’ve begun.’
11 ‘You may tell your father and all your kin How I have thrashed my fat wether’s skin.’
12 Sweet William came whistling in from plaow, Says, ‘Oh my dear wife, is my dinner ready naow?’
13 She drew her table and spread her board, And, ‘Oh my dear husband,’ was every word.
14 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.
1 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.
2 He married this wuman and browt her hom, And set her in his best parlour rom.
3 My man and I went to the fowd, And ketcht the finest wuther that we could howd.
4 We fleed this wuther and browt him hom, Sez I, ‘Wife, now youar begun yar doon.’
5 I laid this skin on my wife’s back, And on to it I then did swack.
6 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 1^3 and 9^2, _Countree_ in 4^2, _they row’d_ in 6^1, _Oh!_ in 8^1, 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 6^1)].
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.
1 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’.
2 ‘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?’
3 ‘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.
4 ‘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?’
5 ‘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.’
6 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.’
7 ‘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.’
8 Donald M’Queen rade up the green, On ane o Dumfermline’s horses, And Lizie Menzie followed him, Thro a’ her father’s forces.
9 ‘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.’
10 ‘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.
11 ‘O wae be to the tempting cheese, The tempting cheese o Fyvie, Gart me forsake my ain gudeman And follow a footman-laddie!
12 ‘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.’
13 She didna wear the silken gowns Were made into Dumbarton, But she is to the Highlands gane, To wear the weeds o tartan.
14 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.
15 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.