Chapter XXXV: Appendix (11)

21
But when they gaed to London town
The trumpets loud were blown,
Which made the king and a’ his court
To marvel at the sound.

22
‘Is this the Duke of Morebattle?
Or James the Scottish king?’
‘No, sire, I’m a Scottish lord,
McNaughten is my name.’

23
‘If you be that young Scottish lord,
As I believe you be,
The fairest lady in my court
She gaes wi child by thee.’

24
‘And if she be with child by me,
As I think sae may be,
It shall be heir of a’ my land,
And she my gay lady.’

25
‘O no, O no,’ the king reply’d,
‘That thing can never be,
For ere the morn at ten o clock
I’ll slay thy men an thee.

26
‘A bold Italian in my court
Has vanquishd Scotchmen three,
And ere the morn at ten o clock
I’m sure he will slay thee.’

27
But up then spake young Johny’s boy,
A clever boy was he;
‘O master, ere that you be slain,
There’s mae be slain than thee.’

28
The king and all his court appeard
Neist morning on the plain,
The queen and all her ladies came
To see youn[g] Johny slain.

29
Out then stepd the Italian bold,
And they met on the green;
Between his shoulders was an ell,
A span between his een.

30
When Johny in the list appeard,
Sae young and fair to see,
A prayer staw frae ilka heart,
A tear frae ilka ee.

31
And lang they fought, and sair they fought,
Wi swords o temperd steel,
Until the blood like draps o rain
Came trickling to their heal.

32
But Johny was a wannle youth,
And that he weel did show;
For wi a stroke o his broad sword
He clove his head in two.

33
‘A priest, a priest!’ then Johny cry’d,
‘To wed my love and me;’
‘A clerk, a clerk!’ the king reply’d,
‘To write her tocher free.’

* * * * *

T

‘John, the little Scot;’ in the youthful handwriting of Sir Walter Scott, inserted, as No 4, at the beginning of a MS. volume, in small folio, containing a number of prose pieces, etc., Abbotsford Library, L. 2.

1
Johnny’s gane up to fair England
Three quarters of a year,
And Johny’s gane up to fair England,
The king’s broad banner to bear.

2
He had not been in fair England,
Even but a little while,
When that the king’s ae dochter
To Johnny gaes wi child.

3
And word is gane to the kitchen,
And word’s gane to the ha,
And word’s gane to the high, high court,
Amang the nobles a’.

4
And word is gane unto the king,
In the chair where he sat,
That his ae dochter’s wi bairn
To John the little Scott.

5
‘If that I thought she is wi bairn,
As I true weell she be,
I’ll put her up in high prison,
And hunger her till she die.’

6
‘There is a silken sark, Johnny,
My ain sell sewed the gare,
And if ye come to tak me hence
Ye need nae taken mare.

7
‘For I am up in high prison,
And O but it is cold!
My garters are o the cold, cold iron,
In place o the beaten gold.’

8
‘Is this the Duke o York?’ they said,
‘Or James the Scottish king?
Or is it John the little Scott,
Frae Scotland new come hame?’

9
‘I have an Italian in my bower,
This day he has eaten three;
Before I either eat or sleep
The fourth man ye shall be.’

10
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
Between his een there was two spans,
His shoulders ells were three.

11
Johnny drew forth his good braid glaive
And slate it on the plain:
‘Is there any more of your Italian dogs
That wanteth to be slain?’

12
‘A clerk, a clerk!’ her father cry’d
‘To register this deed;’
‘A priest, a priest!’ her mother cry’d,
‘To marry them wi speed.’

1^1. gane _struck out_.

1^4. broad _struck out_.

8^1. king o Scots, _originally_, _for_ Duke o York.

9^1. n Italian _struck out, and_ Lion _written above_.

100. Willie o Winsbury.

P. 399 ff. MS. of Thomas Wilkie, p. 5, in “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 34. From Mrs Hislope, Gattonside. 1813.

1
The king calld on his merry men all,
By one, by two, and by three;
Lord Thomas should been the foremost man,
But the hindmost man was he.

2
As he came tripping down the stairs,
His stockings were of the silk,
His face was like the morning sun,
And his hand as white as milk.

3
‘No wonder, no wonder, Lord Thomas,’ he said,
‘Then my daughter she loved thee;
For, if I had been a woman as I am a man,
Tom, I would hae loved thee.’

106. The Famous Flower of Serving-Men.

P. 429. The fragment printed by Scott was given him by the Ettrick Shepherd. It was printed with no important change except in the last stanza, all of which is the editor’s but the second line. The two lines of stanza 7 are scored through in the MS.

“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 133 b, Abbotsford; in the handwriting of James Hogg.

1
My love he built me a bonny bowr,
An cled it a’ wi lily-flowr;
A brawer bowr ye neer did see
Than my true-love he built to me.

2
There came a man by middle day,
He spy’d his sport an went away,
An brought the king that very night,
Who brak my bowr, an slew my knight.

3
He slew my knight, to me sae dear;
He slew my knight, an poind his gear;
My servants all for life did flee,
An left me in extremity.

4
I sewd his sheet, making my moan;
I watchd the corpse, mysel alone;
I watchd his body night and day;
No living creature came that way.

5
I took the corpse then on my back,
And whiles I gaed, and whiles I sat;
I digd a grave, and laid him in,
And hapd him wi the sod sae green.

6
But thinkna ye my heart was sair
When I laid the mool on his yellow hair?
O thinkna ye my heart was wae
When I turnd about, away to gae?

7
Nae langer there I could remain
Since that my lovely knight was slain;
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .

110. The Knight and the Shepherd’s

Daughter.

P. 457 a, 476 f. #A. b# is printed in the Ballad Society’s ed. of the Roxburghe Ballads, III, 449. It is in the Crawford collection, No 1142. There are four copies in the Douce collection: I, 11 b, 14, 21 b, IV, 33, two of Charles II.’s time, two of no account (Chappell).

458 b. The Danish ballad is now No 314 of Danmarks gamle Folkeviser, continued by Axel Olrik, V, II, 377, ‘Ebbe Galt—Hr. Tidemand.’ There are four Danish versions, #A-D#, some of the sixteenth century; a Färöe version in five copies, ‘Ebbin kall,’ Føroyjakvæði, as elaborated by Grundtvig and Bloch, No 123, D. g. F., #E#; an Icelandic version, ‘Símonar kvæði,’ Íslenzk Fornkvæði, I, 224, No 26. Danish #C#, Vedel, III, No 17, is compounded of #B# and a lost version which must have resembled #A#. The copy in Danske Viser, Abrahamson, No 63, is recompounded from C and one of the varieties of #D#. Herr Tidemand is the offending knight in #A#, #C#; Ebbe Galt in #B#, #D# and the Färöe #E#; Kóng Símon in the Icelandic version. #A# has fifteen stanzas, #B# only eleven; the story is extended to sixty-seven in #D#. A begins directly with a complaint on the part of the injured husband before the King’s Bench; the husband in this version is of a higher class than in the others,—Herr Peder, and not a peasant. The forcing is done at the woman’s house in A and the Icelandic version; in #B-E# in a wood. In all, the ravisher is capitally punished.

Hr. Olrik is disposed to think ‘The Knight and the Shepherd’s Daughter’ a not very happy patching together of ‘Ebbe Galt,’ a lost ballad, and ‘Tærning-spillet,’ D. g. F., No 248, by a minstrel who may perhaps have had Chaucer’s story in mind. I am not prepared to go further than to admit that there is a gross inconsistency, even absurdity, in the English ballad; the shepherd’s daughter of the beginning could not possibly turn out a duke’s, an earl’s, or a king’s daughter in the conclusion.

‘Malfred og Sallemand,’ p. 458, note §, which has many verses in common with ‘Ebbe Galt,’ is now No 313 of Danmarks gamle Folkeviser, V, II, 367.

* * * * *

M

‘Earl Richmond,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 81, Abbotsford; in the handwriting of James Skene of Rubislaw.

1
There was a shepherd’s daughter
Kept hogs upo yon hill,
By cam her a gentle knight,
And he would hae his will.

2
Whan his will o her he had,
[His will] as he had taen,
‘Kind sir, for yer courtesy,
Will ye tell me yer name?’

3
‘Some they ca me Jock,’ he says,
‘And some they ca me John;
But whan ‘m in our king’s court
Hitchcock is my name.’

4
The lady being well book-read,
She spelt it oer again:
‘Hitchcock in our king’s court
Is Earl Richard at hame.’

5
He pat his leg out-oer his steed
And to the get he’s gane;
She keltit up her green clothing,
And fast, fast followed him.

6
‘Turn back, turn back, ye carl’s daughter,
And dinna follow me;
It sets na carl’s daughters
Kings’ courts for to see.’

7
‘Perhaps I am a cerl’s daughter,
Perhaps I am nane,
But whan ye gat me in free forest
Ye might ha latten’s alane.’

8
Whan they cam to yon wan water
That a’ man does call Clyde,
He looket oer his left shuder,
Says, Fair may, will ye ride?

9
‘I learnt it in my mother’s bowr,
I wis I had learnt it better,
Whan I cam to wan water
To soom as does the otter.’

10
Or the knight was i the middle o the water,
The lady she was oer;
She took out a came o gold,
To came down her yellow hair.

11
‘Whar gat ye that, ye cerl’s daughter?
I pray ye tell to me:’
‘I got it fra my mither,’ she says,
‘To beguil sick chaps as thee.’

12
Whan they cam to our king’s court,
He rade it round about,
And he gade in at a shot-window,
And left the lady without.

13
She gade to our king hersel,
She fell low down upon her knee:
‘There is a knight into your court
This day has robbed me.’

14
‘Has he robbd ye o your goud?
Or o yer well-won fee?
Or o yer maidenhead,
The flower o yer body?’

15
‘He has na robbd me o my goud,
For I ha nane to gee;
But he has robbd me o my maidenhead,
The flower o my body.’

16
‘O wud ye ken the knight,’ he says,
‘If that ye did him see?’
‘I wud him ken by his well-fared face
And the blyth blink o his ee.’

17
‘An he be a married man,
High hanged sall he be,
And an he be a free man,
Well wedded to him ye’s be,
Altho it be my brother Richie,
And I wiss it be no he.’

18
The king called on his merry young men,
By ane, by twa, by three;
Earl Richmond had used to be the first,
But the hindmost was he.

19
By that ye mith ha well kent
That the guilty man was he;
She took him by the milk-white hand,
Says, This same ane is he.

20
There was a brand laid down to her,
A brand but an a ring,
Three times she minted to the brand,
But she took up the ring;
A’ that was in our king’s court
Countet her a wise woman.

21
‘I’ll gi ye five hundred pounds,
To mak yer marriage we,
An ye’l turn back, ye cerl’s daughter,
And fash nae mere wi me.’

22
‘Gae keep yer five hundred pounds
To mak yer merriage we,
For I’ll hae nathing but yersel
The king he promised me.’

23
‘I’ll gae ye one thousand pounds
To mak yer marriage we,
An ye’l turn back, ye cerl’s daughter,
And fash nae mere wi me.’

24
‘Gae keep yer one thousand pounds,
To mak yer merriage we,
For I’ll hae nathing but yersel
The king he promised me.’

25
He took her down to yon garden,
And clothed her in the green;
Whan she cam up again,
Sh[e] was fairer than the queen.

26
They gad on to Mary kirk, and on to Mary quire,
The nettles they grew by the dyke:
‘O, an my mither wer her[e],
So clean as she wud them pick!’

27
‘I wiss I had druken water,’ he says,
‘Whan I drank the ale,
That ony cerl’s daughter
Sud tell me sick a tale.’

28
‘Perhaps I am a cerl’s daughter,
Perhaps I am nane;
But whan ye gat me in free forest
Ye might ha latten’s alane.

29
‘Well mat this mill be,
And well mat the gae!
Mony a day they ha filled me pock
O the white meal and the gray.’

30
‘I wiss I had druken water,’ he says,
‘When I drank the ale,
That ony cerl’s daughter
Sud tell me sick a tale.’

31
‘Perhaps I am a cerl’s daughter,
Perhaps I am nane;
But whan ye gat me in free forest
Ye might ha latten’s alane.

32
‘Tak awa yer siller spoons,
Tak awa fra me,
An gae me the gude horn spoons,
It’s what I’m used tee.

33
‘O an my mukle dish wer here,
And sine we hit were fu,
I wud sup file I am saerd,
And sine lay down me head and sleep wi ony sow.’

34
‘I wiss I had druken water,’ he says,
‘Whan I drank the ale,
That any cerl’s daughter
Sud tell me sick a tale.’

35
‘Perhaps I am a cerl’s daughter,
Perhaps I am nane,
But whan ye gat me in free forest,
Ye might ha latten’s alane.’

36
He took his hat in oer his face,
The tear blindit his ee;
She threw back her yellow locks,
And a light laughter leugh she.

37
‘Bot an ye be a beggar geet,
As I trust well ye be,
Whar gat ye their fine clothing
Yer body was covered we?’

38
‘My mother was an ill woman,
And an ill woman was she;
She gat them . . . .
Fra sic chaps as thee.’

39
Whan bells were rung, and mess was sung,
And aa man bound to bed,
Earl Richard and the carl’s daughter
In a chamer were laid.

40
‘Lie yont, lie yont, ye carl’s daughter,
Yer hot skin burns me;
It sets na carl’s daughters
In earls’ beds to be.’

41
‘Perhaps I am a carl’s daughter,
Perhaps I am nane;
But whan ye gat me in free forest
Ye might ha latten’s alane.’

42
Up it starts the Belly Blin,
Just at their bed-feet.

43
‘I think it is a meet marrige
Atween the taen and the tither,
The Earl of Hertford’s ae daughter
And the Queen of England’s brither.’

44
‘An this be the Earl of Hertford’s ae daughter,
As I trust well it be,
Mony a gude horse ha I ridden
For the love o thee.’

1–34. _Written as far as 36 in long lines, two to a stanza: there
is no division of stanzas._.

23, 24, 28, 30, 31, 34, 35, 41, _are not fully written out_.

29^2. _Possibly_ mat she gae, _but observe the plural in the next
line._

112. The Baffled Knight.

P. 480 a. There is another variety of #D# in The Calleen Fuine, to which are added The Shepherd’s Boy, etc. Limerick, Printed by W. Goggin, corner of Bridge-Street. British Museum, 11621. e. 14 (16). Dated 1810? in the catalogue.

This begins:

There was a shepherd’s boy,
He kept sheep upon a hill,
And he went out upon a morning
To see what he could kill.
It’s blow away the morning dew,
It’s blow, you winds, hi ho!
You stole away my morning blush,
And blow a little, blow.

481 a. ‘Lou Cabalier discret’ (‘Je vous passerai le bois’), Daymard, Vieux Chants p. rec. en Quercy, p. 126.

481 b, III, 518 a. Dans le bois elle s’est mise à pleurer: Revue des Traditions Populaires, IV, 514; ‘J’ai fini ma journée,’ Gothier, Recueil de Crâmignons, p. 5, ‘Youp ta deritou la la,’ Terry et Chaumont, Recueil d’Airs de Crâmignons, etc., p. 66, No 34; ‘Après ma journée faite,’ Meyrac, Traditions, etc., des Ardennes, pp. 277, 279.

Varieties: ‘Lou Pastour brégountsous (trop discret),’ Daymard, p. 124; ‘A la ronde, mesdames,’ Terry et Chaumont, p. 22, No 13; ‘La belle et l’ermite,’ ‘La jeune couturière,’ La Tradition, IV, 346, 348, Chansons populaires de la Picardie (half-popular).

482 a. A #Breton# song gives the essence of the story in seven couplets: Quellien, Chansons et Danses des Bretons, p. 156.

#Danish.# ‘Den dyre Kaabe,’ Kristensen, Jyske Folkeminder, X, 142, No 38.

482 b, third paragraph. The incident of the boots in Hazlitt, Jest-Books, II, 241 (Tarlton’s Jests, 1611, but printed before 1600).

113. The Great Silkie of Sule Skerry.

P. 494, III, 518. See David MacRitchie, The Finn-Men of Britain, in The Archæological Review, IV, 1–26, 107–129, 190 ff., and Alfred Nutt, p. 232.

A husband who is a man by day, but at night a seal: Curtin, Myths and Folk-Lore of Ireland, p. 51. (G. L. K.)

VOL. III.

114. Johnie Cock.

P. 1. There is a ballad of ‘Bertram, the Bauld Archer’ in Pitcairn’s MSS, III, 51; printed in Maidment’s Scotish Ballads and Songs, 1859, p. 46. Pitcairn derived it from Mrs McCorquodale, Stirling, a farmer’s wife, who remembered it “to have been sung by her grandmother, a woman above eighty years old, who stated that she had it from an old woman, her aunt.” The reciter herself was above sixty-five, and had “first heard it when a little girl.” Nevertheless, Bertram is fustian, of a sort all too familiar in the last century. The story, excepting perhaps the first stanza, is put into the mouth of Bertram’s mistress, _à la_ Gilderoy. The bauld archer has gone to the forest for to mak a robberie. The king has made proclamation that he will give five hunder merk for Bertram’s life. John o Shoumacnair (Stronmaknair, Maidment) proposes to his billies to kill Bertram and get the money. They busk themselves in hodden gray, ‘like to friers o low degree,’ present themselves to Bertram and ask a boon of him, which Bertram grants without inquiry. While they are parleying, Shoumacnair drives his dirk into Bertram’s back. But, though he swirls wi the straik, Bertram draws his awsome bran, kills ane, wounds twa, and then his stalwart, gallant soul takes its flight to heaven.

2b. Braid. “This version [‘Johnie of Braidisbank,’ I] was taken down by Motherwell and me from the recitation of Mr James Knox, land-surveyor at Tipperlinne, near Edinburgh, in the month of May, 1824, when we met him in the good town of Paisley. At 17 a tradition is mentioned which assigns Braid to have been the scene of this woeful hunting. Mr Knox is the authority for this tradition. Braid is in the neighborhood of Tipperlinne.” Note by Mr P. A. Ramsay in a copy of the Minstrelsy which had belonged to Motherwell. (W. Macmath.)

Wolves in Scotland. “It is usually said that the species was extirpated about 1680 by Sir Ewen Cameron of Lochiel, but the tradition to that effect appears to be true only of Sir Ewen’s own district of western Invernessshire.” The _very_ last wolf may have been killed in 1743. R. Chambers, Domestic Annals of Scotland, III, 690.

7. #F# was made up from several copies, one of which was the following, ‘John o Cockielaw,’ in Scott’s youthful handwriting, inserted, as No 3, at the beginning of a MS. volume, in small folio, containing a number of prose pieces, and beginning with excerpts from Law’s Memorials. Abbotsford Library, L. 2.

1
Johnny got up in a May morning,
Calld for water to wash his hands:
‘Gar louse to me my good gray dogs
That are tied with iron bands.’

2
When Johnny’s mother got word o that,
For grief she has lain down:
‘O Johnny, for my benison,
I red you bide at hame!’

3
He’s putten on his black velvet,
Likewise his London brown,
And he’s awa to Durrisdeer,
To hunt the dun deer down.

4
Johnny shot, and the dun deer lap,
And he wounded her on the side;
Between the water and the brae,
There he laid her pride.

5
He’s taken out the liver o her,
And likewise sae the lungs,
And he has made a’ his dogs to feast
As they had been earl’s sons.

6
They eat sae much o the venison,
And drank sae much of the blood,
That they a’ then lay down and slept,
And slept as they had been dead.

7
And bye there cam a silly ald man,
And an ill death might he die!
And he’s awa to the seven forresters,
As fast as he can drie.

8
‘As I cam down by Merriemas,
And down aboon the scroggs,
The bonniest boy that ever I saw
Lay sleeping amang his doggs.

9
‘The shirt that was upon his back
Was of the holland fine,
The cravat that was about his neck
Was of the cambrick lawn.

10
‘The coat that was upon his back
Was of the London brown,
The doublet . . . .
Was of the Lincome twine.’

11
Out and spak the first forrester,
That was a forrester our them a’;
If this be John o Cockielaw,
Nae nearer him we’ll draw.

12
Then out and spak the sixth,
That was . forrester amang them a’;
If this is John o Cockielaw,
Nearer to him we’ll draw.

13
Johnny shot six of the forresters,
And wounded the seventh, we say,
And set him on a milk-white steed
To carry tidings away.

4^4. Wi He there he (he _written in place of another word_). Wi He
_struck out_.

6^3. _Originally_, That they lay a’ them down.

7^2. _Originally_, And a silly ald man was he.

11^2. was hed. hed _struck out_.

116. Adam Bell, etc.

P. 18. The Tell story in The Braemar Highlands, by Elizabeth Taylor, Edinburgh, 1869, pp. 99–103, is a transparent plagiarism, as indeed the author of the book seems to be aware.

117. A Gest of Robyn Hode.

P. 40 ff. Thomas Robinhood is one of six witnesses to a grant in the 4th of Richard II. (June 22, 1380–June 21, 1381). See Historical MSS Commission, Fifth Report, Appendix, p. 511, col. 2. The pronunciation, Robinhood (p. 41 a, note †), is clearly seen in the jingle quoted by Nash, Strange Newes, 1593, Works, ed. Grosart, II, 230: “Ah, neighbourhood, neighbourhood, Dead and buried art thou with Robinhood.”

Among the disbursements of John Lord Howard, afterwards Duke of Norfolk, occurs the following: “And the same day, my Lord paide to Robard Hoode for viij. shafftys xvj. d.” (This is Friday, Sept. 26, 1483.) Household Books of John Duke of Norfolk and Thomas Earl of Surrey, temp. 1481–1490, ed. by J. P. Collier, 1844, Roxburghe Club, p. 464. Collier, p. 525, remarks that “the coincidence that the duke bought them of a person of the name of Robin Hood is singular.”

The Crosscombe Church-Wardens’ Accounts (in Church-Wardens’ Accounts of Croscombe, Pilton, Yatton, etc., ranging from 1349 to 1560, ed. by Right Rev. Bishop Hobhouse, Somerset Record Soc. Publications, IV, 1890):

“Comes Thomas Blower and John Hille, and presents in xl _s._ of Roben Hod’s recones.” 147[6 7] (accounts for 147⅚), p. 4.

“Comys Robin Hode and presents in xxxiij _s._ iv _d_.” 148⅔ (for 148½), p. 10.

“Ric. Willes was Roben Hode, and presents in for yere past xxiij _s._”
148¾ (for 148⅔), p. 11.

“Comys Robyn Hode, Wyllyam Wyndylsor, and presents in for the yere paste iij _l._ vj _s._ viij _d._ ob.” 148[6 7] (for 148⅚), p. 14.

“Robyn Hode presents in xlvj _s._ viij. _d._” 149⅘ (for 149¾), p. 20.

And so of later years.

A pasture called Robynhode Closse is mentioned in the Chamberlains’ Accounts of the town of Nottingham in 1485, 1486, and 1500: Records of the Borough of Nottingham, III, 64, 230, 254. A Robynhode Well near the same town is mentioned in a presentment at the sessions of July 20, 1500 (III, 74), and again in 1548 as Robyn’s Wood Well (IV, 441). Robin Hood’s Acre is mentioned in 162⅘ (IV, 441). Robbin-hoodes Wele is mentioned in Jack of Dover, his Quest of Inquirie, 1604, Hazlitt, Jest-Books, II, 315. (The above by G. L. K.)

49 b. Italian robber-songs. “Sulle piazze romane e napoletane ognuno ha potuto sentire ripetere i canti epici che celebrano le imprese di famosi banditi o prepotenti, Meo Pataca, Mastrilli, Frà Diavolo:” Cantù, Documenti alla Storia universale (1858), V, 891.

53 a. Note on 243–47. The same incident in The Jests of Scogin, Hazlitt’s Jest-Books, II, 151. (G. L. K.)

53 f., 519 a. See also the traditional story how Bishop Forbes, of Corse, lent his brother a thousand marks on the security of God Almighty, in The Scotsman’s Library, by James Mitchell, 1825, p. 576. (W. Macmath.)

121. Robin Hood and the Potter.

P. 108 a. Compare the Great-Russian bylinas about Il’ja of Murom and his son (daughter). Il’ja is captain of the march-keepers, Dobrynja second in command. No man, on foot or on horse, no bird or beast, undertakes to pass. But one day a young hero crosses, neither greeting nor paying toll. One of the guards, commonly Dobrynja, is sent after him, but comes back in a fright. Il’ja takes the matter in hand, has a fight with the young man, is worsted at first, but afterwards gets the better of him. Wollner, Volksepik der Grossrussen, p. 115. (W. W.)

141. Robin Hood rescuing Will Stutly.

P. 186. Stanzas 19, 20. The boon of being allowed to fight at odds, rather than be judicially executed, is of very common occurrence in South-Slavic songs, generally with the nuance that the hero asks to have the worst horse and the worst weapon. A well-known instance is the Servian song of Jurišić Janko, Karadžić, II, 319, No 52, and the older Croat song of Svilojević (treating the same matter), Bogišić, p. 120 No 46. (W. W.)

155. Sir Hugh, or, The Jew’s Daughter.

P. 241. For the subject in general, and particularly ‘el santo niño de la Guardia,’ see further H. C. Lea, in The English Historical Review, IV, 229, 1889.

242 b, fourth paragraph. See J. Loeb, Un mémoire de Laurent Ganganelli sur la calomnie du meurtre rituel, in Revue des Etudes juives, XVIII, 179 ff., 1889. (G. L. K.) For the other side: Il sangue cristiano nei riti ebraici della moderna sinagoga. Versione dal greco del Professore N. F. S. Prato, 1883. Henri Desportes, Le mystère du sang chez les Juifs de tous les temps. Paris, 1889.

246 b. #E# 5. The following stanza was inserted by Motherwell as a variation in a copy of his Minstrelsy afterwards acquired by Mr P. A. Ramsay:

She went down to the Jew’s garden,
Where the grass grows lang and green,
She pulled an apple aff the tree,
Wi a red cheek and a green,
She hung it on a gouden chain,
To wile that bonnie babe in.

249 ff. A version resembling #H-M#, #O# has been kindly communicated by Mr P. Z. Round.

* * * * *

S

Written down April, 1891, by Mrs W. H. Gill, of Sidcup, Kent, as recited to her in childhood by a maid-servant in London.

1
It rained so high, it rained so low,
. . . . . . .
In the Jew’s garden all below.

2
Out came a Jew,
All clothëd in green,
Saying, Come hither, come hither, my sweet little boy,
And fetch your ball again.

3
‘I won’t come hither, I shan’t come hither,
Without my school-fellows all;
My mother would beat me, my father would kill me,
And cause my blood to pour.

4
‘He showed me an apple as green as grass,
He showed me a gay gold ring,
He showed me a cherry as red as blood,
And that enticed me in.

5
‘He enticed me into the parlour,
He enticed me into the kitchen,
And there I saw my own dear sister,
A picking of a chicken.

6
‘He set me in a golden chair
And gave me sugar sweet;
He laid me on a dresser-board,
And stabbed me like a sheep.

7
‘With a Bible at my head,
A Testament at my feet,
A prayer-book at the side of me,
And a penknife in so deep.

8
‘If my mother should enquire for me,
Tell her I’m asleep;
Tell her I’m at heaven’s gate,
Where her and I shall meet.’

156. Queen Eleanor’s Confession.

Pp. 258 ff.

* * * * *

G

‘Earl Marshall,’ “Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,”
No 4 b, Abbotsford; in the handwriting of William Laidlaw.

1
The queen of England she is seek,
And seek and like to dee;
She has sent for friers out of France,
To bespeek hir speed[i]ly.

2
The king has cald on his merrymen,
By thirtys and by threes;
Earl Marshall should have been the formest man,
But the very last man was he.

3
‘The queen of England s[h]e is seek,
And seek and like to dee,
And she has sent for friers out of France,
To bespeek hir speedyly.

4
‘But I will put on a frier’s weeg,
And ye’l put on another,
And we’ll away to Queen Helen gaits,
Like friers both together.’

5
‘O no, no,’ says Earl Marshall,
‘For this it must not be;
For if the queen get word of that,
High hanged I will be.’

6
‘But I will swear by my septer and crown,
And by the seas so free,
I will swear by my septer and crown,
Earl Marshall, thow’s no dee.’

7
So he has put on a frier’s wig,
And the king has put on another,
And they are away to Queen Helen gaits,
Like friers both together.

8
When they came to Queen Helen gaits,
They tirled at the pin;
There was non so ready as the queene herself
To open and let them in.

9
‘O are you two Scottish dogs?—
And hanged you shall be—
Or are [you] friers come out of France,
To bespeek me speedily?’

10
‘We are not two Scottish dogs,
Nor hanged we shall be;
For we have not spoken a wrong word
Since we came over the sea.’

11
‘Well then, the very first that ever I sind
I freely confess to thee;
Earl Marshall took my maidenhead
Below yon greenwood tree.’

12
‘That is a sin, and very great sin,
But the Pope will pardon thee;’
‘Amene, Amene,’ says Earl Marshall,
But a feert, feert heart had he.

13
‘The very next sin that ever I sind
I freely confess to thee;
I had [poisen] seven years in my breast
To poisen King Hendry.’

14
‘That is a sin, and very great sin,
But the Pope forgiveth thee;’
‘Amene, Amene,’ says Earl Marshall,
But a feert, feert heart had he.

15
‘The very next sin that ever I sind
I freely confess to thee;
I poisened one of my court’s ladies,
Was far more fairer than me.’

16
‘That is a sin, and a very great sin,
But the Pope forgiveth thee;’
‘Amene, Amene,’ says Earl Marshall,
But a feert, feert heart had he.

17
‘Do you see yon bony boys,
Playing at the baw?
The oldest of them is Earl Marshall’s,
And I like him best of all.’

18
‘That is a sin, and very great sin,
But the Pope forgiveth thee;’
‘Amene, Amene,’ says Earl Marshall,
But a feert, feert heart had he.

19
‘Do ye see two bony [boys],
Playing at the baw?
The youngest of them is King Hendry’s,
And I like him worst of all.

20
‘Because he is headed like a bull,
And his nose is like a boar;’
‘What is the matter?’ says King Henry,
‘For he shall be my heir.’

21
Now he put off his frier’s wig
And drest himself [in] red;
She wrung hir hands, and tore hir hair,
And s[w]ore she was betraid.

22
‘Had I not sworn by my septer and crown,
And by the seas so free,
Had I not sworn by my septer and crown,
Earl Marshall, thowst have died.’

4^2. yet.

4^3. will.

14^2. they.

19^2. is Earl Marshall’s.

158. Hugh Spencer’s Feats in France.

III, 276, note †. I had remarked that this ballad was after the fashion of Russian bylinas. Professor Wollner indicates especially the bylina of Dobrynja and Vasilij Kazimirović, which in a general way is singularly like ‘Hugh Spencer.’ In this very fine ballad, Vladimir is in arrears with his tribute to a Saracen king, and appoints Vasilij his envoy, to make payment. Vasilij asks that he may have Dobrynja go with him, and Dobrynja asks for Ivanuka’s company. (Compare #B#.) Dobrynja beats the king at chess and at the bow (which corresponds to the justing in the English ballad); then follows a great fight, the result of which is that the Saracen king is fain to pay tribute himself. Wollner, Volksepik der Grossrussen, pp. 123–125.

Other examples of difficult feats done in foreign lands, commonly by comrades of the hero, in Karadić, II, 445, 465, Nos 75, 79; also II, 132, No 29; and the Bulgarian Sbornik, II, 130, 1, 132, 3. (W. W.)

161. The Battle of Otterburn.

Pp. 294, 520. St George Our Lady’s Knight. ‘Swete Sainct George, our ladies knyght,’ Skelton, ‘Against the Scottes,’ v. 141, Dyce, I, 186; ‘Thankyd be Saynte Gorge our ladyes knythe,’ in the ‘Ballade of the Scottysche Kynge,’ p. 95 of the fac-simile edition by J. Ashton, 1882 (where the passage is somewhat different). In his note, II, 220, to the poem ‘Against the Scottes,’ Dyce remarks that St George is called Our Lady’s Knight “in a song written about the same time as the present poem, Cott. MS. Domit. A. xviii. fol. 248.” This appears to be the song quoted from the same MS. by Sir H. Ellis, Original Letters, First Series, I, 79:

‘Swet Sent Jorge, our Ladyes knyte,
Save Kyng Hary bothe be day and nyȝth.’

In his Chorus de Dis, super triumphali victoria contra Gallos, etc., Skelton speaks of St George as Gloria Cappadocis divæ milesque Mariæ, v. 13; Dyce, I, 191. See also John Anstis, The Register of the Most Noble Order of the Garter, London, 1724, I, 122; II, 27, 48 f. (G. L. K.)

299. #C.# First published in the second edition of the Minstrelsy, 1803, I, 27. 1^{3,4} there read The doughty earl of Douglas rode Into England, to catch a prey; 31^1, Yield thee, O yield thee, etc., and 31^3, Whom to shall I yield, said, etc.

For his later edition of ‘The Battle of Otterburn,’ Scott says he used “two copies ... obtained from the recitation of old persons residing at the head of Ettrick Forest.” James Hogg sent Scott, in a letter dated September 10 (1802?), twenty-nine stanzas “collected from two different people, a crazy old man and a woman deranged in her mind,” and subsequently recovered, by “pumping” his “old friends’ memory,” other lines and half lines out of which (using the necessary cement, and not a little) he built up eleven stanzas more, and these he seems to have forwarded in the same letter. These two communications are what is described by Scott as two copies. They will be combined here according to Hogg’s directions, and the second set of verses bracketed for distinction.

The materials out of which #C# was constructed can now easily be separated. We must bear in mind that Scott allowed himself a liberty of alteration; this he did not, however, carry very far in the present instance. 1–13, 15–19, 23 are taken, with slight change or none, from Hogg’s first “copy” of verses; 24, 26–29 from the second; 30–35 are repeated from Scott’s first edition. 14 is altered from #A# 16; 20=Hogg 21^{1,2} + Scott; 21=Hogg 22^1 + Hogg 35^{2–4}; 22=Hogg 23^{1,3} + Scott; 25=Hogg 28^1 + #B# 8^{2–4}. Scott did well to drop Hogg 9, and ought to have dropped Hogg 8.

“Scotch Ballads, Materials for Border Minstrelsy,” No 132, Abbotsford, stanzas 1–24, 35–38, 40; the same, No 5, stanzas 25–34, 39. Communicated to Scott, in a letter, by James Hogg.

1
It fell about the Lammas time,
When the muir-men won their hay,
That the doughty Earl Douglas went
Into England to catch a prey.

2
He chose the Gordons and the Graemes,
With the Lindsays light and gay;
But the Jardines wadna wi him ride,
And they rued it to this day.

3
And he has burnt the dales o Tine
And part of Almonshire,
And three good towers on Roxburgh fells
He left them all on fire.

4
Then he marchd up to Newcastle,
And rode it round about:
‘O whae’s the lord of this castle,
Or whae’s the lady o ‘t?’

5
But up spake proud Lord Piercy then,
And O but he spak hie!
I am the lord of this castle,
And my wife’s the lady gaye.’

6
‘If you are lord of this castle,
Sae weel it pleases me;
For ere I cross the border again
The ane of us shall die.’

7
He took a lang speir in his hand,
Was made of the metal free,
And for to meet the Douglas then
He rode most furiously.

8
But O how pale his lady lookd,
Frae off the castle wa,
When down before the Scottish spear
She saw brave Piercy fa!

9
How pale and wan his lady lookd,
Frae off the castle hieght,
When she beheld her Piercy yield
To doughty Douglas’ might!

10
‘Had we twa been upon the green,
And never an eye to see,
I should have had ye flesh and fell;
But your sword shall gae wi me.’

11
‘But gae you up to Otterburn,
And there wait dayes three,
And if I come not ere three days’ end
A fause lord ca ye me.’

12
‘The Otterburn’s a bonny burn,
’Tis pleasant there to be,
But there is naught at Otterburn
To feed my men and me.

13
‘The deer rins wild owr hill and dale,
The birds fly wild frae tree to tree,
And there is neither bread nor kale
To fend my men and me.

14
‘But I will stay at Otterburn,
Where you shall welcome be;
And if ye come not ere three days’ end
A coward I’ll ca thee.’

15
‘Then gae your ways to Otterburn,
And there wait dayes three;
And if I come not ere three days’ end
A coward ye’s ca me.’

16
They lighted high on Otterburn,
Upon the bent so brown,
They lighted high on Otterburn,
And threw their pallions down.

17
And he that had a bonny boy
Sent his horses to grass,
And he that had not a bonny boy
His ain servant he was.

18
But up then spak a little page,
Before the peep of the dawn;
‘O waken ye, waken ye, my good lord,
For Piercy’s hard at hand!’

19
‘Ye lie, ye lie, ye loud liar,
Sae loud I hear ye lie!
The Piercy hadna men yestreen
To dight my men and me.

20
‘But I have seen a dreary dream,
Beyond the isle o Sky;
I saw a dead man won the fight,
And I think that man was I.’

21
He belted on his good broad-sword
And to the field he ran,
Where he met wi the proud Piercy,
And a’ his goodly train.

22
When Piercy wi the Douglas met,
I wat he was right keen;
They swakked their swords till sair they swat,
And the blood ran them between.

23
But Piercy wi his good broad-sword,
Was made o the metal free,
Has wounded Douglas on the brow
Till backward he did flee.

24
Then he calld on his little page,
And said, Run speedily,
And bring my ain dear sister’s son,
Sir Hugh Montgomery.

25
[Who, when he saw the Douglas bleed,
His heart was wonder wae:
‘Now, by my sword, that haughty lord
Shall rue before he gae.’

26
‘My nephew bauld,’ the Douglas said,
‘What boots the death of ane?
Last night I dreamd a dreary dream,
And I ken the day’s thy ain.

27
‘I dreamd I saw a battle fought
Beyond the isle o Sky,
When lo, a dead man wan the field,
And I thought that man was I.

28
‘My wound is deep, I fain wad sleep,
Nae mair I’ll fighting see;
Gae lay me in the breaken bush
That grows on yonder lee.

29
‘But tell na ane of my brave men
That I lye bleeding wan,
But let the name of Douglas still
Be shouted in the van.

30
‘And bury me here on this lee,
Beneath the blooming brier,
And never let a mortal ken
A kindly Scot lyes here.’

31
He liftit up that noble lord,
Wi the saut tear in his ee,
And hid him in the breaken bush,
On yonder lily lee.

32
The moon was clear, the day drew near,
The spears in flinters flew,
But mony gallant Englishman
Ere day the Scotsmen slew.

33
Sir Hugh Montgomery he rode
Thro all the field in sight,
And loud the name of Douglas still
He urgd wi a’ his might.

34
The Gordons good, in English blood
They steepd their hose and shoon,
The Lindsays flew like fire about,
Till a’ the fray was doon.]

35
When stout Sir Hugh wi Piercy met,
I wat he was right fain;
They swakked their swords till sair they swat,
And the blood ran down like rain.

36
‘O yield thee, Piercy,’ said Sir Hugh,
‘O yield, or ye shall die!’
‘Fain wad I yield,’ proud Piercy said,
‘But neer to loun like thee.’

37
‘Thou shalt not yield to knave nor loun,
Nor shalt thou yield to me;
But yield thee to the breaken bush
That grows on yonder lee.’

38
‘I will not yield to bush or brier,
Nor will I yield to thee;
But I will yield to Lord Douglas,
Or Sir Hugh Montgomery.’

39
[When Piercy knew it was Sir Hugh,
He fell low on his knee,
But soon he raisd him up again,
Wi mickle courtesy.]

40
He left not an Englishman on the field
. . . . . . .
That he hadna either killd or taen
Ere his heart’s blood was cauld.

35^3. swords still.

Hogg writes:

“As for the scraps of Otterburn which I have got, they seem to have been some confused jumble, made by some person who had learned both the songs which you have, and in time had been straitened to make one out of them both. But you shall have it as I had it, saving that, as usual, I have sometimes helped the measure, without altering one original word.”

After 24: “This ballad, which I have collected from two different people, a crazy old man and a woman deranged in her mind, seems hitherto considerably entire; but now, when it becomes most interesting, they have both failed me, and I have been obliged to take much of it in plain prose. However, as none of them seemed to know anything of the history save what they had learned from the song, I took it the more kindly. Any few verses which follow are to me unintelligible.

“He told Sir Hugh that he was dying, and ordered him to conceal his body, and neither let his own men nor Piercy’s know; which he did, and the battle went on headed by Sir Hugh Montgomery, and at length” (35, etc.).

After 38: “Piercy seems to have been fighting devilishly in the dark; indeed, my relaters added no more, but told me that Sir Hugh died on the field, but that” (40).

In the postscript, Hogg writes:

“Not being able to get the letter away to the post, I have taken the opportunity of again pumping my old friends’ memory, and have recovered some more lines and half lines of Otterburn, of which I am become somewhat enamourd. These I have been obliged to arrange somewhat myself, as you will see below; but so mixed are they with original lines and sentences that I think, if you pleased, they might pass without any acknowledgment. Sure no man will like an old song the worse of being somewhat harmonious. After [24] you may read [25–34]. Then after [38] read [39].”

Of Almonshire [3^2] Hogg writes: “Almon shire may probably be a corruption of Banburgh shire, but as both my relaters called it so, I thought proper to preserve it.”

Andrew Livingston writes to Scott, Airds by Castle Douglas, 28th April, 1806, Letters, I, No 183: “My mother recollects seven or eight verses of the ballad of ‘The Battle of Otterburn’ different from any I have seen either in the first and second editions of the Minstrelsy or in Percy’s Reliques.... In several parts they bear a great resemblance to the copy in the first edition of the Minstrelsy.”

162. The Hunting of the Cheviot.

P. 306. Fighting on or with stumps, etc.

Ketilbjörn’s foot is cut off at the ankle-joint. He does not fall, but hobbles against his enemies and kills two of them before his strength gives out: Gull-þóris Saga, c. 18, ed. Maurer, p. 75. Gnúpr fought on his knees after his foot was off: Vemundar Saga ok Vígaskútu, c. 13, Rafn, Íslendinga Sögur, II, 266. Sörli kills eleven men with his club, hobbling round on one foot and one stump (apparently, though Sörli and Hárr are perhaps confused in the narrative): Göngu-Hrólfs Saga, c. 31, Rafn, Fornaldar Sögur, III, 329, Ásmundarson, III, 214 (wrongly, 114). Már fights when both his hands are off: Gull-þóris Saga, c. 10, Maurer, p. 59. Compare the exploits of Sölvi after both his hands have been cut off: Göngu-Hrólfs Saga, c. 31, Rafn, F. S., III, 331, Ásmundarson, III, 215 (wrongly 115); and Röndólfr’s performances after one of his hands has been cut off and all the toes of one foot, in the same saga, c. 30, Rafn, p. 324 f., Ásmundarson, p. 211 (111); and Göngu-Hrólfr’s, who has had both feet cut off while he slept, the same saga, c. 25, Rafn, pp. 307–9, Ásmundarson, 197 f. The Highlander at the battle of Gasklune had his predecessor in Ali, in the same saga, c. 30, Rafn, p. 324, Ásmundarson, p. 210 (110). (G. L. K.)

167. Sir Andrew Barton.

P. 338 b. Gold to bury body. So in the story of Buridan and the Queen of France, Haupt’s Zeitschrift II, 364. (G. L. K.)

In Apollonius of Tyre: puellam in loculo conposuit . . . et uiginti sestertios ad caput ipsius posuit, et scripturam sic continentem: Quicumque corpus istud inuenerit et humo tradiderit medios sibi teneat, medios pro funere expendat; et misit in mare. C. 25, ed. Riese, p. 29. Cf. Jourdains de Blaivies, 2222–33, K. Hofmann, Amis et Amiles und Jourdains de Blaivies, 1882, p. 168 f. (P. Z. Round.)

‘The Sonnge of Sir Andraye Barton, Knight,’ English Miscellanies, edited by James Raine, Surtees Society, vol. lxxxv, p. 64, 1890; from a MS. in a hand of the sixteenth century now in York Minster Library.

This very interesting version of Sir Andrew Barton, the editor informs us, was originally No 25 of a ballad-book in small quarto. It came recently “into the possession of the Dean and Chapter of York with a number of papers which belonged in the seventeenth century to the episcopal families of Lamplugh and Davenant.” If, as is altogether probable, there were copies of other ballads in the same book in quality as good as this, and if, as is equally probable, no more of the book can be recovered, our only comfort is the cold one of having had losses. In several details this copy differs from that of the Percy MS., but not more than would be expected. The English sail out of the Thames on the morrow after midsummer month, July 1, and come back the night before St Maudlen’s eve, or the night of July 20, stanzas 17, 74. In stanza 42 Barton boasts that he had once sent thirty Portingail heads home salted— ‘to eat with bread’! We read in Lesley’s History that the Hollanders had taken and spoiled divers Scots ships, and had cruelly murdered and cast overboard the merchants and passengers; in revenge for which Andrew Barton took many ships of that country, and filled certain pipes with the heads of the Hollanders and sent them to the Scottish king. (Ed. 1830, p. 74; ed. 1578, p. 329.) The eating is a ferocious addition of the ballad. Several passages of this copy are corrupted. A throws light upon some of these places, but others remain to me unamendable.

1
It fell against a midsomer moneth,
When birds soonge well in every tree,
Our worthë prence, Kinge Henrye,
He roode untoe a chelvellrye.

2
And allsoe toe a forrest soe faire,
Wher his Grace wente toe tak the ayre;
And twentye marchantes of London citie
Then on there knees they kneelled there.

3
‘Ye are welcome home, my rich merchantes,
The best salers in Christentie!’
‘We thanke yowe; by the rood, we are salers good,
But rich merchantes we cannot be.

4
‘To France nor Flanders we der not goe,
Nor a Burgesse voy[a]ge we der not fare,
For a robber that lyes abrod on the sea,
And robs us of oure merchantes-ware.’

5
King Henry was stout, and turnd hime about;
He sware by the lord that was mickell of might,
‘Is ther any rober in the world soe stoute
Der worke toe England that unrighte?’

6
The merchantes answered, soore they sight,
With a woefull harte to the kinge againe,
‘He is one that robes us of our right,
Were we twentie shippes and he but one.’

7
King Henrye lookte over his shoulder agayne,
Amongst his lordes of hye degree:
‘Have I not a lord in all my land soe stoute
Der take yon robber upon the sea?’

8
‘Yes,’ then did answeer my lord Charls Howwarde,
Neare the kinge’s grace that he did stande;
He saide, If your Grace will give me leave,
My selfe will be the onlie man,

9
‘That will goe beat Sir Andrewe Barton
Upon the seas, if he be there;
I’le ether bringe hime and his shippe toe this lande,
Ore I’le come in England never more.’

10
‘Yow shall have five hundrethe men,’ saide Kinge Henrye,
‘Chuse them within my realme soe free,
Beside all other merriners and boys,
Toe gide the great shippe on the sea.’

11
The first of all the lord up cald,
A noble gunner he was one;
This man was thre score yeares and ten,
And Petter Symond height his name.

12
‘Petter,’ quoeth he, ‘I must saill the sea,
Toe looke an enemye, God be my speede!
As thowe arte ould, I have chossen the
Of a hundreth gunners to be the headde.’

13
He said, If your Honor have chossen me
Of a hundreth gunners to be the headd,
On your mayn-mast-tre let me be hangd,
If I miss thre mille a pennye breed.

14
Then next of all my lord up cald,
A noble boweman he was ane;
In Yorkeshier was this gentleman borne,
And William Horsley height his name.

15
‘Horsley,’ saide he, ‘I must saill the sea,
To meete an enemee, thow must knowe;
I have oft [been] told of thy artillorye,
But of thy shootinge I never sawe.

16
‘Yet fore thye drawght that thowe dost drawe,
Of a hundreth bowemen to be the heade;’
Said Horsley then, Let me be hang[d]e,
If I mis twelve score a twelt penc[e] breed.

17
Yea, pickmen more, and bowmen both,
This worthë Howward tooke to the sea;
On the morowe after midsomer moneth
Out of Temes mouth saillëd he.

18
Hee had not sailled one daie but three,
After his Honor tooke to the sea,
When he mette with one Harrie Huntte,
In Newcastell ther dwelte hee.

19
When he sawe the lion of England out blaisse,
The streemers and the roose about his eye,
Full soonne he let his toppe-saill fall;
That was a tooken of curtissie.

20
My lord he cald of Henry Huntte,
Bad Harry Hunt both stay and stande;
Saies, Tell me where thy dwellinge is,
And whome unto thye shippe belonnges.

21
Henrye Hunt he answered, sore he sight,
With a woefull hart and a sorrowefull minde,
‘I and this shippe doth both belonge
Unto the Newe Castell that stands upon Tyne.’

22
‘But haist thowe harde,’ said my lord Charles Hawward,
‘Wher thowe haist travelled, by daie or by night,
Of a robber that lies abroode on the sea,
They call him Sir Andrewe Barton, knight?’