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BALLAD BOOK. 
 
 * 
 
 She thrusts her right hand into the very bottom of 
 his pannier.—" I have nothing, good Lady, but empty 
 bottles ! " says the ass. — Slawkenbergius. 
 
<=i^c^'^^ 
 
Bxbltotbeca Cutioga 
 
 A 
 
 BALLAD BOOK; 
 
 OR, 
 
 POPULAR AND ROMANTIC BALLADS AND 
 
 SONGS CURRENT IN ANNANDALE AND 
 
 OTHER PARTS OF SCOTLAND. 
 
 COLLECTED »Y 
 
 CHARLES KIRKPATRICK SHARPE. 
 
 Reprinted from the Rare Original Edition 0/1824, 
 
 and. Edited by 
 
 EDMUND GOLDSMID, F.R. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 PRIVATELY PRINTED, EDINBURGH. 
 
This Edition is limited to seventy-five Large 
 Paper copies, and two hundred and seventy-five 
 Small Paper copies, issued only to Subscribers. 
 
 UNWIN BROTHERS, PRINTERS, LONDON AND CHILWORTH. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 'T^IIE collection of Ballads here reprinted is 
 -■- well known by name to all lovers of this 
 class of Ancient Poetry, but the book itself can 
 have been seen by few. Privately printed in 1824 
 for distribution among the Editor's friends, only 
 thirty copies issued from the press, and, of these, 
 half at least have found a permanent resting-place 
 on the shelves of our large public or semi-public 
 Libraries. * 
 
 The Editor was one of a band of quaint Anti- 
 quarian Litterateurs^ which included Maidment,t 
 KinlochjJ Buchan,§ &c., who devoted much time 
 and labour to rescuing these unwritten traditions 
 of the land, at the very period when they were 
 sinking into oblivion. Gathered, as he tells us, 
 from the mouths of nurses, wet and dry, dairy- 
 
 * A copy fetched ^6 17s. 6d. at Mr. J. Maidment's 
 sale. 
 
 t Editor of "A New Book of Old Ballads," "A North 
 Countrie Garland," &c., &c. 
 
 : Editor of "The Ballad Book." 
 
 § Editor of " Ancient Ballads and Songs of the North of 
 Scotland." 
 
 I552y8 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 maids, and tenants' daughters, it is not surprising 
 if in form they are often rough and uncouth, and 
 in ideas not always over-delicate. But, notwith- 
 standing all their faults, nayj for that very reason, 
 they will not fail to interest all who yet value 
 
 The songs, to savage virtue dear, 
 That won of yore the public ear, 
 Ere polity, sedate and sage, 
 Had cjuench'd the fires of Feudal rage. 
 
 "Give me the writing of the Ballads, and you 
 may make the Laws," cried Fletcher of. Saltoun, 
 and he was right. Alfred for generations pro- 
 bably owed as much of his fame to the Ballads he 
 wrote* as to the laws he *' adapted," to use our 
 modern dramatic expression, from Ethelberr, Ina, 
 or Offa. The minstrel has been in turn protected 
 by Edward of York and treated as a rogue and a 
 vagabond by his illustrious great grand-daughter ;t 
 Richard Coeur-de-Lion is perhaps better known 
 as a Troubadour than as the Conqueror of Cyprus ; 
 generation after generation of our peasantry have 
 cheered the long winter evenings, and listened with 
 awe to the tale of Rothiemay, or the fate of 
 ** Pause Sir John"; Governments have quaked 
 at the sound of " Lilliburlero," or *' (^a ira." 
 
 * William of Malmesburj''s Cl.onicles. 
 t Viner's "General Abridg?f?c^t of the Laws of 
 England." 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 In *' A Ballad Book," at least five ballads were 
 printed for the first time, viz. — 
 
 Lady Dysmal. 
 
 Glasgow Peggie, 
 
 Fair Margaret of Craignargat. 
 
 O Errol it's a bojiny place. 
 
 Ritchie Storie. 
 
 I have printed Mr. Sharpe's book word for 
 word, only altering the position of his notes from 
 the beginning to the end of each Ballad;* giving 
 a name to such Ballads as had had none assigned 
 them ; adding a Table of Contents ; and, lastly» 
 subjoining such notes as seemed to me really 
 necessary. I have always held that too many 
 notes impede rather than help the reader, and I 
 have acted in accordance with my opinion. 
 
 EDMUND GOLDSMID. 
 
 Edinburgh, Oct. \2th^ 1883. 
 
 * The original nc are distinguished throughout by 
 the initials C.K.S. 
 
ORIGINAL PREFACE. 
 
 Courteous Reader, 
 
 As this book, of which only thirty 
 copies are printed, shall cost thee nothing, save a 
 little time thrown away on its perusal, which most 
 Antiquaries can very well spare, I will make no 
 apology to thee for the compiling of it. The 
 truth is, I was anxious after this fashion, to 
 preserve a few songs that afforded me much 
 delight in my early youth, and are not to be found 
 at all, or complete, or in the same shape in other 
 Collections. These have been mostly gathered 
 from the mouths of nurses, wet and dry, singing to 
 their babes and sucklings, dairy-maids pursuing 
 their vocation in the cow-house, and tenants' 
 daughters, while giving the Lady (as every Laird's 
 wife was once called) a spinning day, whilom an 
 anniversary tribute in Annandale. Several, too, 
 were picked up from tailors, who were wont to 
 reside in my father's castle, while misshaping 
 clothes for the children and servants. Though I 
 am sensible that none of these Ballads are of much 
 
OR IGINA L PR EFA CE. 
 
 merit, I regret that my memory doth not now 
 serve me as to many more, the outlines of which 
 alone I remember. Some, indeed, I have suppressed 
 on account of their grossness ; confessing, at the 
 same time, that several here printed are not over 
 delicate ; but little will be found to corrupt the 
 imagination, and nothing to inflame the passions. 
 Sufficit! I have inserted a few from MS. Collections 
 in my possession, and perhaps shall be tempted by 
 and by to add a second volume from the same 
 sources. In the mean time, gentle reader. 
 
 Hail! and Farewell! 
 
INDEX TO PART I. 
 
 PAGR 
 
 Fair Janet 13 
 
 The Lasses o' THE Cannogate . ... 19 
 
 The Vain Gudewife 19 
 
 Lady Dysmal 20 
 
 The Bridegroom 23 
 
 Marie Hamilton 24 
 
 Lady Dundonald 28 
 
 Jenny 30 
 
 Deserted 31 
 
 The Twa Sisters 31 
 
 The Fiddler's Benison 35 
 
 The Soutak and the Soo 35 
 
 Glenlogie • • • • 35 
 
 Dickie Macphalion 37 
 
 Glasgow Peggie 38 
 
 Tam o' the Lin 40 
 
 May Collin 41 
 
 My Mither built a wee wee House. . 47 
 
 The Twa Brothers 48 
 
 The Twa Lasses 50 
 
^ 
 
A BALLAD BOOK 
 
 FAIR JANET.* 
 " Ye maun gang to your father, Janet, 
 
 Ye maun gang to him soon ; 
 Ye maun gang to your father, Janet, 
 
 In case that his days are dune ! " 
 
 Janet's awa* to her father, 
 
 As fast as she could hie ; 
 ** O, what's your will wi' me, father? 
 
 O, what's your will wi' me ? " 
 
 " My will wi' you, fair Janet," he said, 
 " It is both bed and board : 
 
 Some say that ye lo'e sweet Willie, 
 But ye maun wed a French lord." 
 
 * This ballad, the subject of which appears to have been 
 very popular, is printed as it was sung by an old woman in 
 Perthshire. The air is extremely beautiful. — C. K. S. It 
 is usually printed under the title of " Willie and Annet," 
 and was also published by Mr. Finlay in an improved (?) 
 version, under the title of " Sweet Willie." 
 
[ A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 "A French lord maun I wed, father? 
 
 A P'rench lord maun I wed ? 
 Then by my sooth," quo fair Janet, 
 
 *' He's neer enter my bed." 
 
 Janet's awa' to her chamber, 
 
 As fast as she could go ; 
 Wha's the first ane that tapped there, 
 
 But sweet Willie, her jo ? 
 
 •*0 we maun part this love, Willie, 
 That has been lang between ; 
 
 There's a French lord coming o'er the sea, 
 To wed me wi' a ring ; 
 
 There's a French lord coming o'er the sea, 
 To wed and tak' me hame." 
 
 *' If we maun part this love, Janet, 
 
 It causeth mickle woe ; 
 If we maun part this love, Janet, 
 
 It makes me into mourning go. " 
 
 " But ye maun gang to your three sisters, 
 
 Meg, Marion, and Jean ; 
 Tell them to come to fair Janet, 
 
 In case that her days are dune. " 
 
 Willie's awa' to his three sisters, 
 
 Meg, Marion and Jean ; 
 " O, haste and gang to fair Janet, 
 
 I fear that her days are dune." 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 Some drew to them their silken hose, 
 Some drew to them their shoon, 
 
 Some drew to them their silk manteils, 
 Their coverings to put on ; 
 
 And they're awa' to fair Janet, 
 By the hie light o' the moon. 
 
 O, I have born this babe, Willie, 
 
 Wi' mickle toil and pain ; 
 Take hame, take hame your babe, Willie, 
 
 For nurse I dare be nane. " 
 
 He's tane his young son in his arms, 
 And kiss't him cheek and chin — 
 
 And he's awa' to his mother's bower, 
 By the hie light o' the moon. 
 
 "O, open, open, mother," he says, 
 
 " O, open, and let me in ; 
 The rain rains on my yellow hair. 
 
 And the dewdrops o'er my chin — 
 And I hae my young son in my arms, 
 
 I fear that his days are dune." 
 
 With her fingers lang and sma', 
 
 She lifted up the pin ; 
 And with her arms lang and sma', 
 
 Received the baby in. 
 
i6 A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 " Gae back, gae back, now sweet Willie, 
 And comfort your fair lady ; 
 
 For where ye had but ae nourice, 
 Your young son shall hae three." 
 
 Willie he was scarce awa' 
 
 And the lady put to bed, 
 When in and came her father dear, 
 
 *' Make haste and busk the bride." 
 
 "There's a sair pain in my head, father. 
 There's a sair pain in my side. 
 
 And ill, O ill, am I, father. 
 This day for to be a bride." 
 
 '* O, ye maun busk this bonny bride, 
 
 And put a gay mantle on ; 
 For she shall wed this auld French lord, 
 
 Gin she should die the morn." 
 
 Some pat on the gay green robes, 
 And some pat on the brown, 
 
 But Janet put on the scarlet robes 
 To shine foremost throw the town. 
 
 And some they mounted the black steed. 
 And some mounted the brown, 
 
 But Janet mounted the milk-white steed 
 To ride foremost throw the town. 
 
^ OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF 
 
 A BOOK OF BALLADS. . 
 
 * ' O, wha will guide your horse, Janet ? 
 
 O, wha will guide him best? " 
 *' O, wha but Willie, my true love, 
 
 He kens I lo'e him best ! " 
 
 And whan they came to Marie's kirk, 
 
 To tye the haly ban, 
 Fair Janet's cheek looked pale and wan, 
 
 And her colour gaed an cam. 
 
 When dinner it was past and done. 
 
 And dancing to begin ; 
 '• O, Ave'll go take the bride's maidens, 
 
 And we'll go fill the ring." 
 
 O, ben than cam' the auld French lord, 
 Saying, " Bride, will ye dance wi' me? 
 
 ** Awa', awa', ye auld French lord. 
 Your face I downa see." 
 
 O, ben than cam' now sweet Willie, 
 
 He cam' with ane advance ; 
 " O, I'll go tak' the bride's maidens. 
 
 And we'll go tak' a dance." 
 
 ** I've seen ither days wi' you, Willie, 
 
 And so has mony mae ; 
 Ye would hae dance wi' me mysel'. 
 
 Let a' my maidens gae." 
 B 
 
i8 A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 O, ben than cam' now sweet Willie, 
 Saying, ** Bride, will ye dance wi' me ? 
 
 " Aye, by my sooth, and that I will. 
 Gin my back should break in three." 
 
 She had nae turned her throw the dance, 
 
 Throw the dance but thrice. 
 Whan she fell doun at Willie's feet, 
 
 And up did never rise ! 
 
 Willie's ta'en the key of his coffer. 
 
 And gi'en it to his man, 
 " Gae hame, and tell my mother dear, 
 
 My horse he has me slain ; 
 Bid her be kind to my young son, 
 
 For father he has nane." 
 
 The tane was buried in Marie's kirk 
 And the tither in Marie's quier ; 
 
 Out of the tane there grew a birk, 
 And the tither a bonny brier. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 II. 
 
 THE LASSES O' THE CANNOGATE.* 
 The lasses o' the Cannogate, t 
 O' they are wondrous nice, 
 They winna gie a single kiss 
 But for a double price. 
 
 Gar hang them, gar hang them, 
 
 Heich upon a tree. 
 For we'll get better up the gate 
 
 For a bawbee. 
 
 III. 
 
 THE VAIN GUDEWIFE. 
 I'll gar our gudeman trow 
 
 That I'll sell the ladle, 
 If he winna buy to me 
 
 A new side saddle 
 To ride to the kirk, and ftae the kirk, 
 
 And round about the toun, — 
 Stand about, ye fisher jads. 
 
 And gie my goun room ! 
 
 * The two following songs were remembered thirty years 
 ago by an old gentlewoman. The first seems to be a satire 
 on the Court ladies of Edinburgh. — C. K. S. 
 
 t A street in the old town of Edinburgh, a continuation 
 of the High Street. It was once the fashionable quarter of 
 the town. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 I'll gar our gudeman trow 
 
 That I'll tak' the fling strings, 
 If he winna buy to me 
 
 Twelve bonnie goud rings, — 
 Ane for ilka finger, 
 
 And twa for ilka thoom, — 
 Stand about, ye fisher jads, 
 
 And gie my goun room ! 
 
 I'll gar our gudeman trow 
 
 That I'll tak' the glengore, 
 If he winna fee to me 
 
 Three valets or four, 
 To beir my tail up frae the dirt, 
 
 And ush me throw the toun,— 
 Stand about, ye flsher jads, 
 
 And gie my goun room ! * 
 
 IV. 
 
 LADY DYSMAL. 
 
 There was a king, and a glorious king. 
 
 And a king of mickle fame ; 
 
 And he had daughters only one. 
 
 Lady Dysmal was her name. 
 
 * As illustrations of the above song, vide Sir Richard 
 Maitland's Poems, beginning : — 
 
 " Some wyfis of the Borroustoun 
 So wander vane are, and wantoun." 
 And also Sir David Lindsay's supplication against Syde 
 Taillis and Mussalit Faces. — C. K. S. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 21 
 
 He had a boy, and a kitchen boy, 
 
 A boy of mickle scorn ; 
 And she lov'd him lang, and she lov'd him 
 aye, 
 
 Till the grass o'ergrew the corn. 
 
 When twenty weeks were gone and past, 
 
 O, she began to greet ; 
 Her petticoats grew short before. 
 
 And her stays they wadna meet. 
 
 It fell upon a winter's night, 
 
 The king coukl get nae rest ; 
 He cam unto his daughter dear, 
 
 Just like a wand'ring ghaist. 
 
 He cam into her bed-chamber, 
 And drew the curtains round, — 
 
 '* What aileth thee, my daughter dear ? 
 I fear you've gotten wrong." 
 
 " O, if I have, despise me not, 
 
 For he is all my joy ; 
 I will forsake baith dukes and earls, 
 
 And marry your kitchen boy." 
 
 " Go call to me my merry men all, 
 
 By thirty and by three ; 
 Go call to me my kitchen boy, 
 
 We'll murder him secretlie. " 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 There was nae din that could be heard, 
 
 And ne'er a word was said, 
 Till they got him baith fast and sure, 
 
 Between twa feather beds. 
 
 ** Go, cut the heart out of his breast. 
 
 And put it in a cup of gold ; 
 And present it to his Dysmal dear. 
 
 For she is baith stout and bold." 
 
 They've cut the heart out of his breast, 
 
 And put it in a cup of gold ; 
 And presented it to his Dysmal dear, 
 
 Who was baith stout and bold. 
 
 *' O, come to me, my hinney, my heart, 
 
 O, come to me, my joy ; 
 O, come to me, my hinney, my heart. 
 
 My father's kitchen boy." 
 
 She's ta'en the cup out of their hands. 
 
 And set it at her bed head ; 
 She wash'd. it wi' the tears that fell from her 
 eyes, 
 
 And next morning she was dead. 
 
 " O, where were ye, my merry men all, 
 
 Whom I paid meat and wage, 
 Ye didna hold my cruel hand. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 23 
 
 ** For gone is a' my heart's delight, 
 
 And gone is a' my joy ; 
 For my dear Dysmal she is dead, 
 
 And so is my kitchen boy. "* 
 
 V. 
 THE BRIDEGROOM. 
 
 There lived a man into the west, 
 
 And O ! but he was cruel ; 
 Upon his waddin' nicht at e'en. 
 
 He sat up and grat for gruel. 
 
 They brought to him a good sheep's head, 
 
 A napkin, and a towel, — 
 '* Gae tak' your whim- whams a' frae nie, 
 
 And bring me fast my gruel. " 
 
 * This stupid ballad, printed as it was sung in Annan- 
 dale, is founded on the well-known story of the Prince of 
 Salerno's daughter ; but with what uncouth change ! 
 Dysmal for Ghismonda, and Guiscardo transformed into a 
 greasy kitchen boy : 
 
 "An ounce of civet, good apothecary. 
 To sweeten my imagination." 
 The reader will immediately remember Hogarth's picture 
 and Churchill's exclamation : — 
 
 " Poor Sigismunda, what a fate was thine !"— C. K. S. 
 Compare also the "Story of a Lover's Heart" in Dis- 
 raeli's *' Curiosities of Literature." 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 The Bride speaks. 
 " There is nae meal into the hous, 
 
 What shall I do, my jewel ?" 
 ** Gae to the pock and shake a lock, 
 
 For I canna want my gruel." 
 
 " There is nae milk into the hous. 
 What shall I do, my jewel ?" 
 
 '* Gae to the midden and milk the soo, 
 For I wunna want my gruel."* 
 
 VI. 
 
 MARIE HAMILTON. 
 
 Word's gane to the kitchen 
 
 And word's gane to the ha', 
 That Marie Hamilton gangs wi' bairn 
 
 To the hichest Stewart of a*. 
 
 Pie's courted her in the kitchen, 
 
 He's courted her in the ha', 
 He's courted her in the laigh cellar, 
 
 And that was warst of a' ! 
 
 * This song, from some original words of the air to which 
 Auld Robin Gray was latterly adapted, appears to have 
 been composed on a similar melancholy event. 
 " The bridegroom grat when the sun gaed down {Repeat) 
 
 And 'Och,' quo' he, 'It's come o'er soon,'"&c.— C. K. S. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 25 
 
 She's tyed it in her apron, 
 
 And she's thrown it in the sea, 
 Says ** Sink ye, swim ye, bonny wee babe, 
 
 You'l ne'er get niair o' me." 
 
 Down then cam' the auld Queen, 
 
 Goud tassels tying her hair, 
 * * O, Marie, where's the bonny wee babe, 
 
 That I heard greet sae sair?" 
 
 •* There was never a babe intill my room. 
 
 As little designs to be ; 
 It was but a touch o' my sair side. 
 
 Come o'er my fair bodie." 
 
 " O, Marie, put on your robes o' black, 
 
 Or else your robes o' brown, 
 For ye maun gang wi' me the night. 
 
 To see fair Edinbro' town." 
 
 " I winna put on my robes o' black, 
 
 Nor yet my robes o' brown. 
 But I'll put on my robes o' white. 
 
 To shine through Edinbro' town." 
 
 When she gaed up the Cannogate, 
 She laugh'd loud laughters three j 
 
 But whan she cam down the Cannogate, 
 The tear blinded her e'e. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 When she gaed up the Parliament stair, 
 
 The heel cam aff her shee, 
 And lang or she cam down again, 
 
 She was condemn'd to dee. 
 
 When she cam down the Cannogate, 
 
 The Cannogate sae free, 
 Mony a ladie look'd o'er her window, 
 
 Weeping for this ladie. 
 
 ** Ye need nae weep for me," she says, 
 
 " Ye need nae weep for me, 
 For had I not slain mine own sweet babe, 
 
 This death I wadna dee. 
 
 " Bring me a bottle of wine," she says, 
 
 ** The best that e'er ye hae, 
 That I may drink to my weil wishers, 
 And they may drink to me. 
 
 •' Here's a health to the jolly sailors, 
 
 That sail upon the main, 
 Let them never let on to my father and 
 mother, 
 
 But what I'm coming hame. 
 
 " Here's a health to the jolly sailors 
 
 That sail upon the sea ; 
 Let them never let on to my father and 
 mother. 
 
 That I am here to dee. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 27 
 
 " Oh, litttle did my mother think, 
 
 The day she cradled me, 
 What lands I was to travel through, 
 
 What death I was to dee. 
 
 " Oh, little did my father think. 
 
 The day he held up me, 
 What lands I was to travel througli, 
 
 What death I was to dee. 
 
 ** Last night I wash'd the Queen's feet, 
 
 And gently laid her down ; 
 And a' the thanks I've gotten the nicht, 
 
 To be hang'd in Edinbro' town. 
 
 " Last nicht there was four Maries, 
 
 The nicht thei-e'I be but three ; 
 There was Marie Set on, and Marie Beton, 
 
 And Marie Carmichael, and me."* 
 
 * In the Border Minstrelsy (vol. iii. page 87) is a much 
 more refined edition of this ballad, which is supposed to 
 relate the misadventure of one of Queen Marie's ladies. It 
 is singular that during the reign of the Czar Peter, one of 
 his Empress's attendants, a Miss Hamilton (spelt Hamble- 
 ton by Sir Walter Scott), was executed for the murder of a 
 natural child, — not her first crime in that way, as was 
 suspected ; and the Czar, whose admiration of her beauty 
 did not preserve her life, stood upon the scaffold till her 
 head was struck off, which he lifted by the ear, and kissed 
 on the lips. I cannot help thinking that the tvvo stories 
 have been confused in the ballad, for if Marie Hamilton was 
 executed in Scotland, it is not likely that her relations 
 
s8 A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 VII. 
 LADY DUNDONALD. 
 Weel it becomes the Lady Dundonald, 
 
 To sit liltin* at her rock, 
 And weel it becomes the Laird of Dundonald, 
 To wear his hodden gray frock ! 
 Chorus. — Lilty eery, lardy lardy 
 Lilty eery, lardy lam. 
 
 (Enter Marg'et.) 
 ** My Lady, there is a lass at the door wants to be 
 feed." 
 " What fee does she want ? " " Five punds." 
 *' Five punds is o'er mony punds, to be 
 Drawing out the tail o' a rock." 
 Chorus. — Lilty, eery, &c. 
 
 " Tell her I will gee her four punds. 
 And spin a' the backs mysel. " 
 Chorus. — Lilty, eery, &c. 
 
 resided beyond seas, and we have no proof that Hamilton 
 was really the name of the woman who made a slip with 
 Damley. — C. K. S. A third version is given by Motherwell, 
 as the one current in the west of Scotland (page 401) ; but 
 the most complete is that reprinted by the Aungervyle 
 Society (series i, 1881). In Knox's " History of the Re- 
 formation " (page 373-4), it is stated that the murderess was 
 a Frenchwoman in the Queen's suite, and the father of the 
 child the Queen's apothecarj'. "This was the beginning 
 of the regiment of Mary, Queen of Scots, and these were 
 the fruits which she brought forth of France," exclaims the 
 bigoted Scotsman, with admirable love of justice ! 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 29 
 
 (EnUr Marg'et.) 
 " My Lady, what will I tell you noo, 
 
 Isna our kitchen lass wi' bairn ! 
 What may that be till ? 
 
 The Laird, I needna speir." 
 Chortts. — Lilty eery, &c. 
 
 *' He has fifteen at the fireside else. 
 
 And that will mak sixteen, 
 
 And sae it will een ; 
 
 It was me that made him a Laird ; 
 
 And deel speed sic Lairds ! " 
 
 Chorus. — Lilty eery, &c. 
 
 " Hear, Marg'et." " What does my Lady want 
 
 noo ? " 
 *' Bring ben the brandy bottle, your waas, 
 And tak' a dram yoursel*, 
 And gar we tak' twa." 
 
 Chorus. — Lilty eery, &c. 
 
 " I think we may as weel 
 Tak' our ain geer oursels, 
 For it is gaein' whether or no." 
 Chorus. — Lilty eery, &c. 
 
 (£«/<??' John.) 
 "My Lady, there is company come." 
 " Fashions fock, John ; I want nae company, 
 I am spinning at my rock." 
 
 Chorus. — Lilty eery, &c. 
 
30 A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 **M y Lady, the servants is going to their beds, 
 They want the doup of a candle." 
 ** Tell them to put doups and doups thegither, 
 And that will gie them licht."* 
 Chorus. — Lilty eery, &c. 
 
 VIII. 
 JENNY. 
 Jenny, scho's ta'en a deep surprise, 
 And scho's spew'd a' her crowdie. 
 Her minnie scho ran to seek her a dram, 
 But scho stude mair need o' the howdie. 
 
 '* O, Sandie, dinna ye mind," quo' scho, 
 ** Whan ye gart me drink the brandy, 
 Whan ye yerkit me ow'r amang the braume, 
 And plaid me Houghmagandy ! " 
 
 * This strange folly was generally sung by a man. with a 
 woman's cap on his head, a distaff, and a spindle. The 
 dialogue, of which the subjoined is only a fragment, was 
 chanted in recitative. Can this song possibly allude to 
 Elizabeth, daughter and heiress of William Cochrane of 
 Cochrane, who married Alexander, a younger son of John 
 Blair of Blair? Her father made a settlement of his estate 
 in her favour 1593. At Gosford, a seat of the Earl of 
 Wemyss, is a full-length portrait of a hideous old woman, 
 with her spinning implements, and a starved cat, said to be 
 the Lady Dundonald of the ballad, but to me it appears to 
 be the figure of a Flemish peasant. — C. K. S. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 IX. 
 DESERTED. 
 And sae ye've treated me, 
 And sae ye've treated me ; 
 I'll never lo'e anither man, 
 Sae weil as I've lo'ed thee. 
 And sae ye've treated me, 
 And sae ye've treated me ; 
 The deil pit on your windin' sheet 
 Three hours before you dee ! 
 
 X. 
 
 THE TWA SISTERS. 
 There liv'd twa sisters in a bower, 
 Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch, 
 There liv'd twa sisters in a bower, 
 
 Stirling for aye ; 
 The youngest o' them, O, she was a flower ! 
 Bonny Sanct Johnstoune that stands upon Tay. 
 
 There cam a squire frae the west, 
 
 Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch, 
 There cam a squire frae the west, 
 
 Stirling for aye ; 
 He lo'ed them baith, but the youngest best. 
 
 Bonny Sanct Johnstoune that stands upon Tay. 
 
3a A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 He gied the eldest a gay gold ring, 
 
 Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch, 
 
 He gied the eldest a gay gold ring, 
 
 Stirling for aye ; 
 But he lo'ed the youngest aboon a' thing. 
 Bonny Sanct Johnstoune that stands upon Tay. 
 
 ** Oh, sister, sister, will ye go to the sea? 
 
 Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch, 
 Oh, sister, sister, will ye go to the sea ? 
 
 Stirling for aye ; 
 Our father's ships sail bonnilie. 
 
 Bonny Sanct Johnstoune that stands upon Tay." 
 
 The youngest sat down upon a stane, 
 
 Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbinich, 
 The youngest sat down upon a stane, 
 
 Stirling for aye ; 
 The eldest shot the youngest in. 
 
 Bonny Sanct Johnstoune that stands upon Tay. 
 
 " Oh, sister, sister, lend me your hand. 
 
 Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch, 
 Oh, sister, sister, lend me your hand, 
 
 Stirling for aye ; 
 And you shall hae my gouden fan, 
 
 Bonny Sanct Johnstoune that stands upon Tay. 
 
 * * Oh, sister, sister, save my life, 
 Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch, 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERS 
 
 OF 
 
A BOOK OF BALI ADS. 33 
 
 Oh, sister, sister, save my life, 
 
 Stirling for aye ; 
 And ye shall be the squire's wife. 
 
 Bonny Sanct Johnstoune that stands up3n Tay." 
 
 First she sank, and then she swam, 
 
 Hey Edinbi-uch, how Edinbruch, 
 First she sank, and then she swam, 
 
 Stirling for aye ; 
 Until she cam to Tweed m.ill dam. 
 
 Bonny Sanct Johnstoune that stands upon Tay. 
 
 The millar's daughter was baking bread, 
 
 Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch, 
 The millar's daughter was baking bread, 
 
 Stirling for aye. 
 She went for water, as she had need, 
 
 Bonny Sanct Johnstoune that stands upon Tay. 
 
 ** Oh, father, father, in our mill dam, 
 
 Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch, 
 Oh, father, father, in our mill dam, 
 
 Stirling for aye ; 
 There's either a lady, or a milk-white swan, 
 
 Bonny Sanct Johnstoune that stands upon Tay." 
 
 They could nae see her fingers small. 
 
 Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch, 
 They could nae see her fingers small, 
 Stirling for aye ; 
 
 c 
 
34 A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 Wi' diamond rings they were cover'd all, 
 
 Bonny Sanct Johnstoune that stands upon Tay- 
 
 They could nae see her yellow hair, 
 
 Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch, 
 They could nae see her yellow hair, 
 
 Stirling for aye ; 
 Sae mony knotts and platts war there, 
 
 Bonny Sanct Johnstoune that stands upon Tay. 
 
 They could nae see her lily feet. 
 
 Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch, 
 They could nae see her lilly feet, 
 
 Stirling for aye ; 
 Her gowden fringes war sae deep. 
 
 Bonny Sanct Johnstoune that stands upon Tay. 
 
 Bye there cam a fiddler fair. 
 
 Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch, 
 Bye there cam a fiddler fair, 
 
 Stii'ling for aye ; 
 And he's ta'en three taits o' her yellow hair, 
 
 Bonny Sanct Johnstoune that stands upon Tay.* 
 
 * Various sets of this song have been printed. It was 
 popular both in England and Scotland. The air is beauti- 
 ful.— C.K.S. 
 
 It is usually called " Binnorie," from the ordinary 
 chorus. A version is given in the Border Minstrelsy, wiiich 
 is far more complete. A parody of it is to be found in 
 D'Urfey's, " Pills to purge Melancholy." 
 
 r 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 XL 
 
 THE FIDDLER'S BENLSON. 
 My blessing gae vvi' ye, Jock Rob, Jock Rob, 
 My l)lc3sing gae wi' you, Jock Rob ; 
 For whan ye come here, ye mak' us good cheer. 
 And gar our blythe bottoms play bob ! 
 
 XIL 
 THE SOUTAR AND THE SOO. 
 The soutar gied the soo a kiss — 
 *' Grumph," quo' scho, " it's for my briss." 
 " And whare gat ye sae sweet a mou ? " 
 Quo' the soutar to the soo. 
 " Grumph," quo' scho, " and whare gat ye 
 A tongue sae sleekie and sae slee ? "* 
 
 xin. 
 
 GLENLOGIE. 
 Four and twenty nobles sits in the king's ha', 
 Bonnie Glenlogie is the flower among them a'. 
 
 In came Lady Jean skipping on the floor. 
 And she has chosen Glenlogie 'mong a' that was 
 there. 
 
 * It is veiy strange, as well as amusing, to observe how 
 much our ancient poets detested soutars. Examples are 
 too numerous to be quoted. — C. K. .S. 
 
36 A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 She turned to his footman, and thus she did say : 
 ** Oh, what is his name, and where does he stay ?" 
 
 " His name is Glenlogie, when he is from home, 
 He is of the gay Gordons, his name it is John." 
 
 '* Glenlogie, Glenlogie, an' you will prove kind, 
 My love is laid on you, I am telling my mind." 
 
 He turned about lightly, as the Gordons does a', 
 "I thank you, Lady Jean, my love is promised 
 awa'." 
 
 She called on her maidens her bed for to make, 
 Her rings and her jewels all from her to take. 
 
 In came Jeanie's father, a wae man was he. 
 Says, ** I'll wed you to Drumfendrich, he has mair 
 gold than he." 
 
 Her father's own chaplain, being a man of gi-eat 
 
 skill, 
 He wrote him a letter, and indited it well ; 
 
 The first lines he looked at, a light laugh laughed 
 
 he, 
 But ere he read through it, the tears blinded his 
 
 e'e. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 37 
 
 Oh, pale and wan looked she when Glenlogie cam' 
 
 in, 
 But even rosy grew she when Glenlogie sat down. 
 
 *' Turn round, Jeanie Melville, turn round to this 
 
 side, 
 And I'll be the bridegroom, and you'll be the 
 
 bride." 
 
 Oh, 'twas a merry wedding, and the portion down 
 told, 
 
 Oh, bonnie Jeanie Melville, who was scarce six- 
 teen years old.* 
 
 XIV. 
 DICKIE MACPHALION. 
 I WENT to the mill, but the miller was gone, 
 I sat me down, and cried ochone ! 
 To think on the days that are past and gone 
 Of Dickie Macphalion that's slain. 
 
 Shoo, shoo, shoolaroo. 
 To think on the days that are past and gone, 
 Of Dickie Macphalion that's slain. 
 
 * This ballad was first printed in "The Scottish Min- 
 strel," vol. iv., 1822. The version there given differs con- 
 siderably from this. An "expurgated" text was printed 
 in "The Popular Rhymes of Scotland" in 1826, and, 
 inirabile dictu,'\'i, there said to be "printed for the ^r^/ 
 time." 
 
38 A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 I sold my rock, I sold my reel. 
 And sae hae I my spinning wheel, 
 And a' to buy a cap of steel 
 For Dickie Macphalion that's slain ! 
 
 Shoo, shoo, shoolaroo, 
 And a' to buy a cap of steel 
 For Dickie Macphalion that's slain.* 
 
 XV. 
 GLASGOW PEGGIE. 
 As I cam' in by Glasgow town, 
 The Highland troops were a' before me, 
 And the bonniest lass that e'er I saw. 
 She lives in Glasgow, they ca' her Peggie. 
 
 I wad gie my bonnie black horse, 
 
 So wad I my gude grey naigie, 
 
 If I were twa hundred miles in the north, 
 
 And nane wi' me but my bonnie Peggie ! " 
 
 Up then spak' her father dear, 
 Dear wow ! but he was wondrous sorrie — 
 " Weel may ye steal a cow or a yowe, 
 But ye dare nae steal my bonnie Peggie." 
 
 Up then spak her mother dear, 
 Dear wow ! but she spak' wondrous sorrie — 
 ** Now since I have brought ye up this length. 
 Wad ye gang awa' wi' a Highland fellow ? " 
 
 * A Ballad of evidently Irish origin. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 39 
 
 He set her on his bonnie black horse, 
 He set himself on ;his gude grey naigie ; 
 And they have ridden o'er hills and dales, 
 And he's awa' wi' his bonnie Peggie. 
 
 They have ridden o'er hills and dales, 
 They have ridden o'er mountains many. 
 Until they cam' to a low, low glen, 
 And there he's lain down wi' his bonnie Peggie. 
 
 Up then spak' the Earl of Argyle, 
 
 Dear wow ! but he spak' wondrous sorrie — 
 
 "The bonniest lass in a' Scotland, 
 
 Is off and awa' wi' a Highland fellow." 
 
 Their bed was of the bonnie gieen grass, 
 Their blankets war o' the hay sae bonnie ; 
 He folded his philabeg below her head, 
 And he's lain down wi' his bonnie Peggie. 
 
 Up then spak' the bonnie Lowland lass. 
 And wow ! but she spak wondrous sorrie — 
 *' I'se warrant my mither wad [hae a gay sair 
 
 heart 
 To see me lien' here wi' you, my Willie." 
 
 "In my father's house there's feather beds, 
 Feather beds, and blankets mony ; 
 They're a' mine, and they'lllsune be thine, 
 And what needs your mither be sae sorrie, 
 Peggie ? 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 " Dinna you see yon nine score o' kye, 
 Feeding on yon hill sae bonnie ? 
 There a' mine, and they'll sune be thine, 
 And what needs your mither be sorrie, Peggie ? 
 
 ** Dinna ye see yon nine score o' sheep, 
 Feeding on yon brae sae bonnie ? 
 They're a' mine, and they'll sune be thine. 
 And what needs your mither be sorrie for ye ? 
 
 ** Dinna ye see yon bonnie white house, 
 Shining on yon brae sae bonnie ? 
 And I am the Earl of the Isle of Skye, 
 And surely my Peggie will be ca'd a lady."* 
 
 XVI. 
 TAM O' THE LIN. 
 
 Tam o' Lin's daughter scho sat on the stair, 
 And, '* Wow," quo scho, ** Father, am na I fair ? 
 
 There's mony ane wed wi 'an unwhiter skin" — 
 " The deil whorl 't off," quo Tam o' the Lin. 
 
 Tam o' Lin's daughter scho sat on the brig, 
 
 And," Wow," quo scho, "Father, am na I 
 trig ? " 
 
 The brig it brak', and she tummel'd in — 
 " Your tocher's paid," quo Tam o' the L'n. 
 
 * This ballad is better known under the title of the " Ear 
 of Hume," or the "Banks of Omey." 
 
A BOO If OF BALLADS. 
 
 XVII. 
 MAY COLLIN. 
 
 Oh, heard ye of a bloody knight. 
 
 Lived in the south country ? 
 For he has betrayed eight ladies fair, 
 
 And drowned them in the sea. 
 
 Then next he went to May Collin, 
 
 She was her father's heir ; 
 The greatest beauty in the land, 
 
 I solemnly declai'e. 
 
 *' I am a knight of wealth and might, 
 
 Of townlands twenty-three ; 
 And you'll be the lady of them all 
 
 If you will go with me." 
 
 " Excuse me, then, Sir John," she says, 
 
 * * To wed I am too young — 
 Without I have my parents' leave, 
 
 With you I darena gang. " 
 
 •' Your parents' leave you soon shall have, 
 In that they will agree ; 
 For T have made a solemn vow 
 This night you'll go with me." 
 
r A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 From below his arm he pulled a charm, 
 
 And stuck it in her sleeve ; 
 And he has made her go with him, 
 
 Without her parents' leave. 
 
 Of gold and silver she has got 
 With her twelve hundred pound ; 
 
 And the swiftest steed her father had 
 She has ta'en to ride upon. 
 
 So privily they went along, 
 
 They made no stop or stay. 
 Till they came to the fatal place. 
 
 That they call Bunion Bay, 
 
 It being in a lonely place, 
 And no house there was nigh, 
 
 The fatal rocks were long and steep. 
 And none could hear her cry. 
 
 ** Light down," he said, ** fair May Collin, 
 Light down, and speak with me. 
 
 For here I've drowned eight ladies fair. 
 And the ninth one you shall be." 
 
 " Is this your bowers and lofty towers, 
 
 So beautiful and gay. 
 Or is it for my gold," she said, 
 
 '* You take my life away ? " 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 43 
 
 ** Strip off," he says, " thy jewels fine, 
 
 So costly and so brave, 
 For they are too costly and too fine 
 
 To throw in the sea wave." 
 
 " Take all I have my life to save, 
 
 Oh, good Sir John, I pray, 
 Let it ne'er be said you killed a maid, 
 
 Upon her wedding-day." 
 
 '* Strip off," he says, *' thy holland smock, 
 
 " That's bordered with the lawn, 
 For it's too costly and too fine 
 
 To rot on the sea sand." 
 
 *' Oh, turn about, Sir John," she said, 
 
 Your back about to me ; 
 For it never was comely for a man 
 
 A naked woman to see." 
 
 But as he turned him round about, 
 
 She threw him in the sea. 
 Saying, ** Lie you there, you false Sir John, 
 
 Where you thought to lay me. 
 
 "Oh, lie you there, you traitor false, 
 
 Where you thought to lay me ; 
 For though you stripped me to the skin, 
 
 Your clothes you've got with thee." 
 
[ A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 Her jewels fine she did put on, 
 
 So costly, rich, and brave. 
 And then with speed she mounts his steed, 
 
 So well she did behave. 
 
 That lady fair being void of fear, 
 Her steed being swift and free, 
 
 And she has reached her father's gate 
 Before the clock struck three. 
 
 Then first she called her stable groom, 
 
 He was her waiting man ; 
 Soon as he heard his lady's voice, 
 
 He stood with cap in hand. 
 
 '* Where have you been, fair May Collin ? 
 
 Who owns this dapple grey ? " 
 " It is a found one," she replied, 
 
 " That I got on the way." 
 
 Then out bespoke the wily parrot 
 
 Unto fair May Collin, 
 " What have you done with false Sir John, 
 
 That went with you yestreen ? " 
 
 " Oh, hold your tongue, my pretty parrot. 
 
 And talk no more of me ; 
 And where you had a meal a day. 
 
 Oh, now you shall have three." 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 45 
 
 Then up bespoke her father dear, 
 
 From his chamber where he lay, 
 ** What aileth thee, my pretty Poll, 
 
 That you chat so long ere day ? " 
 
 *' The cat she came to my cage door, 
 
 The thief I could not see. 
 And I called to fair May Collin 
 
 To take the cat from me. " 
 
 Then first she told her father dear 
 
 The deed that she had done, 
 And next she told her mother dear, 
 
 Concerning false Sir John. 
 
 " If this be true, fair May Collin, 
 
 That you have told to me, 
 Before I either eat or drink, 
 
 This false Sir John I'll see." 
 
 Away they went with one consent, 
 
 At dawning of the day ; 
 Until they came to Carline Sands, 
 
 And there his body lay : 
 
 His body tall, by that great fall, 
 
 By the waves tossed to and fro. 
 The diamond ring that he had on, 
 
 Was broke in pieces two. 
 
; A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 And they have taken up his corpse 
 
 To yonder pleasant green, 
 And there they have buried false Sir John, 
 
 For fear he should be seen. * 
 
 * This is a much fuller set of the ballad than I ever saw 
 printed. It is probable that Collin, cr Colvin, is a corrup- 
 tion of Colvill ; and that Carline Sands means Carlinseugh 
 Sands, on the coast of Forfarshire. Sir John's charm 
 resembles that used by Sir John Colquhoun in 1633, and 
 the glamour of Faa, the Egyptian, touching whose amorous 
 adventure and tragical end, I may here mention some 
 lines expressive of the powers of the husband's family 
 which I found among the Macfarlane MSS. : — 
 
 " 'Twixt Wigton and the town of Air, 
 Portpatrick and the cruives of Crea, 
 No man needs think for to bide there, 
 Unless he court with Kennedie." 
 
 I will only add that May Collin's appropriation of her 
 lover's steed, though unromantic, may be justified by the 
 example of the Princess of Cathay herself, and Ariosto in- 
 forms us that Angelica was never at a loss for a palfrey ; 
 when Orlando had seized one, from which she fell, she 
 would steal another. — C. K. S. 
 
 The ballad was first published in Mr. Herd's "Ancient 
 and Modern Scottish Songs'' (1769). A third version is 
 given by Motherwell. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 47 
 
 XVIII. 
 MY MITHER BUILT A WEE, WEE HOUSE. 
 {Time, " Bii-ks of Abergeldie."*) 
 My mither built a wee, wee house, 
 A wee, wee house, a wee, wee house. 
 My mither built a wee, wee house, 
 To keep me frae the men, O ! 
 The wa's fell in, and I fell out, 
 The wa's fell in, and I fell out, 
 The wa's fell in, and I fell out, 
 Amang the merry men, O ! 
 
 How can I keep my maidenhead, 
 My maidenhead, my maidenhead. 
 How can I keep my maidenhead, 
 Amang sae mony men, O ? 
 Ane auld mouldy maidenhead, 
 Ane auld mouldy maidenhead, 
 Ane auld mouldy maidenhead, 
 Seven years and ten, O ! 
 
 The captain bad a guinea for 't, 
 A guinea for *t, a guinea for 't, 
 The captain bad a guinea for 't. 
 The colonel he bad ten, O ! 
 The sergeant he bad naething for 't. 
 Bad naething for 't, bad naething for *t 
 The sergeant he bad naething for 't. 
 And he came farrest ben, O ! 
 
 * Sic in original, but "The Birks of Abcrfeldie " is the 
 name the tune is best known l)y. 
 
K A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 XIX. 
 THE TWA BROTHERS. 
 There were twa brethern in the north, 
 They went to the school* thegither ; 
 The one unto the other said, 
 *' Will you try a warsle afore ? " 
 
 They warsled up, they warsled down, 
 Till Sir John fell to the ground. 
 And there was a knife in Sir Willie's pouch, 
 Giedhim a deadlie wound. 
 
 " Oh, brither, dear, take me on your back, 
 Carry me to yon burn clear, 
 And wash the blood from off my wound, 
 And it will bleed nae mair." 
 
 He took him up upon his back, 
 Carried him to yon burn clear, 
 And wash'd the blood from off his wound, 
 But aye it bled the mair. 
 
 * * Oh brither, dear, take me on your back, 
 Carry me to yon kirk-yard ; 
 
 And dig a grave baith wide and deep, 
 And lay my body there. " 
 
 * Chase is sometimes substituted for school. — C. K. S. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 49 
 
 He's ta'en him up upon his back, 
 Carried him to yon kirk-yard ; 
 And dug a grave baith deep and wide, 
 And laid his body there. 
 
 " But what will I say to my father dear , 
 Gin he chance to say, ' Willie, whar's John ? '" 
 "Oh, say that he's to England gone. 
 To buy him a cask of wine." 
 
 "And what will I say to my mother dear. 
 Gin she chance to say, ' Willie, whar's John ? ' " 
 " Oh, say that he's to England gone, 
 To buy her a new silk gown." 
 
 ** An what will I say to my sister dear, ^ 
 Gin she chance to say, * Willie, whar's John? ' " 
 ** Oh, say that he's to England gone, 
 To buy her a wedding-ring." 
 
 " But what will I say to her you lo'e dear. 
 Gin she cry, ' Why tarries my John ? ' " 
 " Oh, tell her I lie in kirk-land fair, 
 And home again will never come."* 
 
 * In the month of July, 1588, at the Drum, near Dal- 
 keith, William, Master of Somerville, accidentally killed his 
 brother John, with whom he had ever lived in the most 
 affectionate manner, by the unexpected discharge of his 
 pistol ("Memorie of the Somervilles," vol. i. p. 466). This 
 event, I am convinced, is the origio of this ballad, of which 
 a fuller and more correct edition is to be found in Jamieson. 
 As to kirk-land, my copy has only kirk-yard, till the last 
 verse, where land has been added from conjecture. Kirk- 
 D 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 XX. 
 
 THE TWA LASSES. 
 O Bessie Bell and Mary Gray, 
 
 They war twa bonnie lasses ! 
 They bigget a bovver on yon burn brae, 
 
 And theekit it o'er wi' rashes. 
 They theekit it o'er wi' rashes green, 
 
 They theekit it o'er with heather. 
 But the pest cam' frae the burrows town. 
 
 And slew them baith thegither ! 
 They thought to lye in Methven Kirk yard, 
 
 Amang their noble kin, 
 But they maun lye in Stronach Haugh, 
 
 To biek forenent the sin. 
 And Bessie Bell and Mary Gray, 
 
 They war twa bonnie lasses ! 
 They biggit a bower on yon burn brae, 
 
 And theekit it o'er wi' rashes.* 
 
 End of Part I. 
 
 land, or Inchmurry, is in Perthshire. — N.B. A similar 
 accident happened in the Stair family, 1682. — C. K. S. 
 
 This ballad was first published by Jamieson in his 
 "Popular Ballads and Songs " (1806). A third version is 
 given by Motherwell. 
 
 * Bessy Bell and Mary Gray died of the plague, com- 
 municated by their lover, in the year 1645. Their romantic 
 history may be found in "Pennant's Tour," and in the 
 ' 'Statistical Account of Scotland. ' ' The more modemwords 
 of this ballad were composed by Allan Ramsay.— C. K. S. 
 
BALLAD BOOK. 
 
Bibliotbeca (Tudosa. 
 
 A 
 
 BALLAD BOOK; 
 
 POPULAR AND ROMANTIC BALLADS AND 
 
 SONGS CURRENT IN ANNANDALE AND 
 
 OTHER PARTS OF SCOTLAND. 
 
 COLLECTED BY 
 
 CHARLES KIRKPATRICK SHARPE. 
 
 Reprinted from the Rare Original Edition of 1824, 
 
 and Edited by 
 
 EDMUND GOLDSMID, F.R.H.S. 
 
 PART I L 
 
 PRIVATELY PRINTED, EDINBURGH. 
 
 X883. 
 
This Edition is limited to seventy-five Large 
 Paper copies, and. two hundred and seventy-five 
 Small Paper copies, issued only to Subscribers. 
 
 .'NWIN BROTHERS, I'RINTERS, LONDON AND CHILWORTH. 
 
INDEX TO PART II. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Bonny House of Airlie 7 
 
 O, GIN YE WAR Dead, Gudeman ... 9 
 
 The Dream 10 
 
 The Crab 10 
 
 Andrew Car 12 
 
 The Haggis o' Dunbar 12 
 
 The Bonny Lad 13 
 
 Fair Margaret of Craignargat ... 13 
 
 Kempy Kaye 20 
 
 The Buddy and the Mouse. 22 
 
 The Earl of Erroi 25 
 
 Ritchie Storie 28 
 
 The Rape of Akngosk 31 
 
 Malcolm of Balbeddie 33 
 
 I have been AT Newburn 33 
 
 To Lauderdale 34 
 
 Annie Laurie 35 
 
 Fy, Fy, Marg'ret 36 
 
 The True Case of Mrs. Elspet ... 37 
 
 The Distraught Gudewife .... 39 
 
 Cold Sir Beter 41 
 
 Balmanno 42 
 
 Mrs. Mitchell and Borlan .... 43 
 
K 
 
A BALLAD BOOK. 
 
 '?Q)(^ 
 
 XXf. 
 THE BONNY HOUSE OF ATRLIE. 
 
 It fell on a day, and a bonny simmer day, 
 When green grew aits and barley, 
 
 That there fell out a great dispute 
 Between Argyll and Airlie. 
 
 Argyll has raised an hundred men, 
 
 An hunder harness'd rarely, 
 And he's awa' by the back of Dunkell, 
 
 To plunder the Castle of Airlie. 
 
 Lady Ogilvie looks o'er her bovver window 
 
 And oh, but she looks weary ; 
 And there she spy'd the great Argyll, 
 
 Come to plunder the bonny House of Airlie. 
 
8 A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 " Come down, come down, my Lady Ogilvie, 
 
 Come down, and kiss me fairly. " 
 * * O, I winna kiss the fause Argyll, 
 
 If he should na leave a standing stane in 
 Airlie." 
 
 He hath taken her by the left shoulder. 
 Says, " Dame, where lies thy dowry ? " 
 
 " Oh, it's east and west yon wan water side. 
 And its down by the banks of the Airlie. " 
 
 They hae sought it up, they hae sought it down, 
 They hae sought it maist severely ; 
 
 Till they fand it in the fair plumb tree, 
 That shines on the bowling-green of Airlie. 
 
 He hath taken her by the middle sae small, 
 
 And, O, but she grat sairly : 
 And laid her down by the bonny burn-side. 
 
 Till they plundered the Castle of Airlie. 
 
 ** Gif my gude lord war here this night. 
 
 As he is with King Charlie, 
 Neither you nor ony ither Scottish lord. 
 
 Durst awow to ihe plundering of, Airlie. 
 
 " Gif my gude lord war now at hame, 
 
 As he is with his King, 
 There durst nae a Campbell in a 'Argyll, 
 
 Set fit on Airlie green. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 * ' Ten bonny sons I have born unto him, 
 The eleventh ne'er saw his daddy, 
 
 But though I had an hun(;lred mair, 
 I'd gie them a' to King Charlie."* 
 
 XXII. 
 O, GIN YE WAR DEAD, GUDEMAN. 
 O, GIN ye vi^ar dead, Gudeman, 
 And a green sod on your held, Gudeman ; 
 Then I wad war my widowhood, 
 Upon a rantin' Highlandman ! 
 There's a sheep's heid in the pat, Gudeman, 
 A sheep's heid in the pat, Gudeman, 
 The broo to me, the horns to thee, 
 An' the flesh to our John Highlandman. 
 Chorus. 
 Sing round about the fire wi' a rung scho ran. 
 An' round about the fire wi' a rung scho ran, 
 An' round about the fire wi' a rung scho ran, 
 "Had awa' your blue breeks fraeme, Gude- 
 man." 
 
 * In the year 1640, Airlie Castle was destroyed by the 
 Marquis of Argyll— a nobleman never accused of incon- 
 tinence, as might be supposed from this ballad, which is 
 erroneous in another point, at least ; no Lady Ogilvie had 
 eleven sons : the first Earl's wife had three, his daughter-in- 
 law, who is probably the hereine of the song, only one ; 
 she herself was a daughter of Lord Banff.— C. K. S. 
 
 This ballad is very common in all parts of Scotland ; in- 
 numerable versions have appeared. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 XXIII. 
 THE DREAM. 
 
 {Tune: *' Gramachree.") 
 Last night I dreamt my Peggy 
 
 Was in beneath the bed ; 
 And up I got upo' my doup, 
 
 And, oh ! but I was glad. 
 
 I pat my hand beneath the bed 
 To tak' her be the kig, 
 
 But instead o' my dear Peggy, 
 I gat the water mug ! * 
 
 XXIV. 
 THE CRAB. 
 
 Our gude wife's wi' bairn, and that's of a lad, 
 And sho's ta'en a greenin' for a fish crab. 
 With my hey jing, &c. 
 
 Up gat our gudeman, and cleekit to his claithes. 
 And he's awa' to the sea-side, trippin' on his taes. 
 With my hey jing, &c. 
 
 * The above soHg used to be sung by a gentleman very 
 eminent at the Scottish Bar, who was bora in the year 
 i6So.— C. K. S. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. ii 
 
 *' Have ye ony crab-fish?" — "One, two, three." 
 ** Tippence is the price o' them gin you and I'll 
 agree. " 
 
 With my hey jing, &c. 
 
 He's pu'd out his purse, and bought the biggest 
 
 ane, 
 He's put it in his nicht mutch, and he's come 
 
 toddlin' hame. 
 
 With my hey jing, &c. 
 
 He wadna put it on the dresser, for fylin' a' the 
 
 dishes, 
 But he pat it in the chalmer pat, where our gude 
 
 wife . 
 
 With my hey jing, &c. 
 
 Up gat the guid wife, an' for to mak' her dam. 
 Up gat the crab-fish, and took her be the wame. 
 With my hey jing, &c. 
 
 Up gat the gudeman, to redd the fish's claws. 
 Up gat the crab-fish, and took him by the nose. 
 With my hey jing, &c.* 
 
 * This gross old ditty is founded on a story in " Le 
 Moyen de Parvenir," a book of which the extreme wit is 
 at least equalled by its beastliness.— C. K. S. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 ANDREW CAR. 
 Chorus. 
 Hey for Andrew, Andrew, 
 Hey for Andrew Car ! 
 He gaed to bed to the lass, 
 And forgot to bar the door ! 
 
 Andrew Car is cunnin'. 
 And Andrew Car is slee, 
 And Andrew Car is winnin', 
 And Andrew Car for me. 
 
 Sing hey for Andrew, &c. 
 
 O it was Andrew Car, 
 O it was him, indeed ; 
 O it was Andrew Car 
 Wha gat my maidenhead. 
 
 Sing hey for Andrew, &c, 
 
 XXVI. 
 THE HAGGIS O' DUNBAR. 
 
 Hey, the Haggis o' Dunbar, 
 Fatharalinkum Feedle ; 
 
 Mony better, few waur, 
 Fatharalinkum Feedle. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 For to mak' this Haggis nice, 
 Fatharalinkum Feedle ; 
 
 They pat in a peck o' lice, 
 Fatharalinkum Feedle. 
 
 For to mak' this Haggis fat, 
 Fatharalinkum Feedle ; 
 
 They put in a scabbit cat, 
 Fatharalinkum Feedle. 
 
 XXVII. 
 THE BONNY LAD. 
 He's a bonny, bonny lad that's a courting me, 
 He's a bonny, bonny lad that's a courting me '; 
 He's cripple of a leg, and blind of an e'e, 
 He's a bonny, bonny lad that's a courting me ! 
 
 XXVHI. 
 FAIR MARGARET OF CRAIGNARGAT. 
 Fair Margaret of Craignargat 
 
 Was the flow'r of all her kin. 
 And she's fallen in love with a false young man . 
 Her ruin to begin. 
 
 The more she lov'd, the more it prov'd 
 
 Her fatal destiny ; 
 And he that sought her overthrow, 
 
 Shar'd of her misery. 
 
14 A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 Before that lady she was born, 
 
 Her mother, as we find, 
 She dreamt she had a daughter fair. 
 
 That was both dumb and blind. 
 
 But as she sat in her bow'r door, 
 
 A viewing of her charms, 
 There came a raven from the south, 
 
 And pluck'd her from her arms. 
 
 Three times on end she dreamt this dream, 
 Which troubled sore her mind, 
 
 That from that very night and hour. 
 She could no comfort find. 
 
 Now she has sent for a wise woman, 
 
 Liv'd nigh unto the port. 
 Who being call'd, instantly came. 
 
 That lady to comfort. 
 
 To her she told her dreary dream, 
 
 With salt tears in her eye ; 
 Hoping that she would read the same, 
 
 Her mind to satisfy. 
 
 " Set not your heart on children young, 
 
 Whate'er their fortune be. 
 And if I tell what shall befall. 
 
 Lay not the blame on me. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 " The raven which you dreamed of, 
 
 He is a false young man, 
 With subtile heart and flatt'ring tongue, 
 
 Your daughter to trepan. 
 
 " Both night and day, 'tis you I pray 
 
 For to be on your guard. 
 For many are the subtile wyles, 
 
 By which youth are ensnar'd." 
 
 When she had read the dreary dream. 
 
 It vexed her more and more, 
 For Craignargat of birth and state, 
 
 Liv'd nigh unto the shore. 
 
 But as in age her daughter wax'd, 
 
 Her beauty did excel 
 All the ladies far and near, 
 
 That in that land did dwell. 
 
 The Gordon, Hay, and brave Agnew, 
 Three knights of high degree, 
 
 Unto the dame a courting came. 
 All for her fair beauty. 
 
 Which of these men they asked her then, 
 That should her husband be ? 
 
 But scornfully she did reply, 
 " I'll wed none of the three." 
 
i6 A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 *' Since it is so, where shall we go, 
 
 A match for thee to find ? 
 That art so fair and beautiful, 
 
 That none can suit thy mind." 
 
 With scorn and pride she answer made, 
 ''You'll ne'er choice one forme. 
 
 Nor will I wed against my mind, 
 For all their high degree." 
 
 The brave Agnew, whose heart was true, 
 
 A solemn vow did make. 
 Never to love a woman more, 
 
 All for that lady's sake. 
 
 To counsel this lady was deaf. 
 
 To judgment she was blind. 
 Which griev'd her tender parents dear 
 
 And troubled sore their mind, 
 
 From the Isle of Man a courter came, 
 And a false young man was he. 
 
 With subtile heart and flatt'ring tongue, 
 To court this fair lady. 
 
 This young man was a bold outlaw, 
 
 A robber and a thief. 
 But soon he gain'd this lady's heart, 
 
 Which caused all their grief. 
 
 O; 
 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 17 
 
 " O, will you wed," her mother said, 
 
 " A man you do not know, 
 For to break your parents' heart, 
 
 With shame but and with woe ? " 
 
 "Yes, I willgo with him," she said, 
 
 " Either by land or sea, 
 For he's the man I've pitched on, 
 
 My husband for to be." 
 
 " O, let her go," her father said, 
 ** For she shall have her will. 
 
 My curse and mallison she's get. 
 For to pursue her still." 
 
 " Your curse, father, I don't regard. 
 Your blessing I'll ne'er crave ; 
 
 To the man I love, I'll constant prove. 
 And never him deceive." 
 
 On board with him fair Marg'ret's gone. 
 
 In hopes his bride to be. 
 But mark you well, and I shall tell 
 
 Of their sad destiny. 
 
 They had not sail'd a league but five. 
 Till the storm began to rise ; 
 
 The swelling seas ran mountains high, 
 And dismal were the skies, 
 B 
 
i8 A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 In deep despair, that lady fair, 
 
 For help aloud she cries, 
 While crystal tears, like fountains ran 
 
 Down from her lovely eyes. 
 
 ** O ! I have got my father's curse, 
 
 My pride for to subdue ; 
 With sorrows great my heart will break, 
 
 Alas ! what shall I do ? 
 
 "0, were I at my father's house, 
 
 His blessing to receive, 
 Then on mybendal knees I'd fall 
 
 His pardon for to crave. 
 
 " To aid my grief, there's no relief. 
 
 To speak it is in vain. 
 Likewise my loving parents dear, 
 
 I ne'er shall see again." 
 
 The wind and waves did both conspire. 
 
 The lives for to devour. 
 That gallant ship that night was lost, 
 
 And never was seen more. 
 
 When tidings to Craignargat came, 
 
 Of their sad overthrow. 
 It griev'd her tender parents' heart, 
 
 Afresh began their woe. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 Of the dreary dream tftat she had seen, 
 
 And often thought upon, 
 " O fatal news," her mother cries, 
 
 *' My darling, she is gone ! 
 
 " O fair Marg'ret, I little thought, 
 The seas should be thy grave, 
 
 When first thou left thy father's house, 
 Without thy parents' leave." 
 
 May this tragedy a warning be, 
 To children while they live. 
 
 That they may love their parents dear, 
 Their blessing to receive.* 
 
 * Craignargat is a promontory in the bay of Luce. Al- 
 though almost surrounded by the Barony of Mochrum, it 
 was long possessed by a branch of the family of 
 Macdowall, which was probably our heroine's surname. 
 On the head of Fair Margaret's lovers, it may be remarked 
 that the Agnews of Lochnaw are a very ancient family, 
 and hereditary Sheriffs of Wigton. The Gordon men- 
 tioned was probably Gordon of Craighlaw, whose castle 
 was situated about five miles from Craignargat, in the 
 parish of Kirkcowan, considered so remote before the for- 
 mation of military roads, that the local proverb says, "Out 
 of the world and into Kirkcowan." The Hays of Park 
 dweh on the coast, about six miles from Craignargat ; but 
 it is singular that the lady is not compHmented with a 
 Dunbar as her lover, the Place of Mochrum, as the old 
 tower is called, being only two miles from her reputed 
 residence.— C. K. S. 
 
 This ballad, according to Motherwell, was a common 
 stall ballad, about 1760. 
 
3 A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 XXIX. 
 KEMPY KAYE. 
 
 Kempy Kaye's a wooing gane, 
 
 Far, far ayont the sea, 
 An' he has met with an auld auld man. 
 
 His gudefather to be. 
 
 *' Gae scrape yeersel, and gae scart yeersel, 
 And mak your bruchty face clean, 
 
 For the wooers are to be here the nicht, 
 And yeer body's to be seen.* 
 
 " What's the matter wi' you, my fair maiden, 
 
 You look so pale and wan ? 
 I'm sure you was once the fairest maiden, 
 
 That ever the sun shined on." 
 
 Sae they scrapit her, and they scartit her, 
 
 Like the face of any assy pan ; 
 And in cam Kempy Kaye himself, 
 
 A clever and tall young man. 
 
 His teeth they were like tether sticks. 
 
 His nose was three feet lang ; 
 Between his shouthers was ells three, 
 
 Between his een a span. 
 
 '' Var. Kempy Kaye's to be here the nicht, 
 Or else the morn at een. — C. K. S. 
 
A BOOK OF ballads: 
 
 "I'm coming to court your dochter dear, 
 An' some pairt of your gear." 
 
 An' by my sooth," quo' Bengoleer, 
 " She'll sair a man o' weir." 
 
 " My dochter she's a thrifty lass, 
 
 She span seven year to me. 
 An' if it war weil counted up, 
 
 Full ten wobs it would be." 
 
 He led his dochter by the han, 
 His dochter ben brought he ; 
 
 ** O, is not she the fairest lass, 
 That's in great Christendye ? " 
 
 Ilka hair intil her head. 
 
 Was like a heather cow, 
 And ilka louse aninder it. 
 
 Was like a lintseed bow.* 
 
 She had lauchty teeth an' kaily lips. 
 
 An' wide lugs fu' o' hair ; 
 Her pouches fu' o' pease meal daigh, 
 
 War hinging down her spare. 
 
 Ilka ee intil her head. 
 
 Was like a rotten ploom. 
 An' down dov/n browit was the quean, 
 
 An' sairly did she gloom. 
 
 * Var. Was like a brucket yowe. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 Ilka nail upon her hand, 
 
 Was like an iron rake, 
 An' ilka teeth into her head, 
 
 Was like a tether stake. 
 
 She gied to him a gay gi-avat, 
 O' the auld horse's sheet, 
 
 And he gied her a gay gold ring, 
 O' the auld couple reet.* 
 
 XXX. 
 
 THE PUDDY AND THE MOUSE. 
 
 There lived a puddy in a well. 
 And a merry mouse in a mill. 
 
 Puddy he'd a wooin' ride, 
 Sword and pistol by his side. 
 
 * i.e. root.— C. K. S. 
 
 This song my learned readers will perceive to be of 
 Scandinavian origin ; and that the wooer's name was pro- 
 bably suggested by Sir Kayes of the Round Table, whose 
 lady failed to prove her chastity in the troublesome affair 
 of the mantle. The description of Bengoleer's daughter 
 resembles that of the enchanted damsel who appeared to 
 courteous King Henrie. 
 
 N.B.— This and the following ballad should have been 
 placed much earlier in the series.— C. K. S. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 Puddy cam to the mouse's wonne, 
 " Mistress Mouse, are you within ? " 
 
 * * Yes, kind sir, I am within, 
 Saftly do I sit and spin." 
 
 "Madame, I am come to woo. 
 Marriage I must have of you." 
 
 ' * Marriage I will grant you nane, 
 Till Uncle Rotten he comes hame." 
 
 ** Uncle Rotten 's now come hame, 
 Fye gar busk the bride alang." 
 
 Lord Rotten sat at the head o' the table, 
 Because he was baith stout and able. 
 
 Wha is't that sits next the wa'. 
 
 But Lady Mouse baith jimp and sma' ? 
 
 Wha is't that sits next the bride. 
 
 But the sola puddy wi' his yellow side ?* 
 
 Syme cam the dewk but and the drake, 
 
 The dewk took the puddy and gart him squaik. 
 
 * Var. Wha sat at the table fit, 
 
 Wha but froggy and his lame fit ?— C. K. S. 
 
24 A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 Than cam in the carle cat, 
 
 Wi' a fiddle on his back ; 
 
 *' Want ye ony music here ? "• 
 
 The puddy he swam down the brook, 
 The drake he catch'd him in his fluke. 
 
 The cat he pu'd Lord Rotten down, 
 The kittlens they did claw his crown. 
 
 But Lady Mouse baith jimp and sma'', 
 
 Crept into a hole beneath the wa' ; 
 
 '* Squeak," quo' she, *' I'm weel awa'."t 
 
 * Var. Then in cam the gude grey cat, 
 
 Wi' a' the kittlens at her back.— C. K. S. 
 
 t Among the songs enumerated in the '* Complainte of 
 Scotland " (1594) is, "The frog cam to the myl dur," pro- 
 bably founded on the same legend with this, which has a 
 chorus, " Cuddie alone and I," &c., not worthy of insertion. 
 In November, 1580, the Stationers licensed to E. White 
 " A ballad of a most strange wedding of the frogge and the 
 mouse," which has since frequently appeared in a more 
 modern shape. See also in D'Urffey's Pills, vol. v., "A 
 ditty on a high amour at St. James's ; the words by Mr. 
 D'Urffey, and set to a comical tune." — C K. S. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 25 
 
 XXXI. 
 THE EARL OF ERROL. 
 O Errol it's a bonny place, 
 
 It stands in yonder glen ; 
 The lady lost the rights of it, 
 The first night she gaed hame. 
 
 Chorus. 
 A waly, and a waly, 
 
 According as ye ken ; 
 The thing we ca' the ranting o't 
 
 Our Lady lies her lane, O ! 
 
 " What need I wash my apron, 
 
 Or hing it on yon door, 
 What need I truce my petticoat. 
 
 It hangs even down before ? " 
 A waly, &c. 
 
 Errol's up to Edinburgh gaen, 
 
 That bonny burrows town ! 
 He has chused the Barber's daughter, 
 
 The toss of a' that town. 
 A waly, &c. 
 
 He's ta'en her by the milk-white hand, 
 
 He's led her o'er the green, 
 And twenty times he kist her, 
 
 Before his Lady's een. 
 A waly, &c. 
 
26 A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 ** Look up, look up, now Peggy, 
 Look up and think nae shame, 
 For I'll give thee five hundred pound, 
 To buy to thee a gown ! " 
 A waly, &c. 
 
 *' Look up, look up, now Peggy, 
 Look up and think nae shame ; 
 For I'll gie thee five hundred pound, 
 To bear to me a son." 
 A waly, &c. 
 
 ** Your name is Kate Carnegie, 
 And I'm Sir Gilbert Hay ; 
 I'll gar your father sell his lands, 
 Your tocher gude to pay. " 
 A waly, &c. 
 
 Now he may take her back again, 
 
 Do wi' her what he can, 
 For Errol canna please her, 
 
 Nor ane o' a' his men. 
 A waly, &c. 
 
 ** Go fetch to me a pint of wine,' 
 Go fill it to the brim ; 
 That I may drink my gude Lord's health, 
 Tho' Errol be his name." 
 A waly, &c. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 She has ta'en the glass into her hand, 
 
 She has putten poison in ; 
 She has sign'd it to her dorty lips, 
 
 But ne'er a drop went in. 
 A waly, &c. 
 
 Up then spak a little page. 
 
 He was o' Errol's kin, 
 Now fie upon ye, lady gay. 
 
 There's poison there within." 
 A waly, &c. 
 
 It's hold your hand now, Kate," he says, 
 ** Hold it back again. 
 For Errol shall not drink on't, 
 Nor none of all his men." 
 A waly, &c. 
 
 She has taen the sheets into her arms, 
 She has thrown them o'er the wa'; 
 
 Since I maun gae maiden hame again, 
 Awa', Errol, awa'." 
 A waly, &c. 
 
 She's down the back o' the garden, 
 
 And O ! as she did murne ! 
 How can a warkman crave his wage. 
 
 When he never wrought a turn? " 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 A waly and a waly, 
 
 According as ye ken ; 
 The thing we ca' the ranting o't, 
 Our Lady lies her lane, O !* 
 
 XXIII. 
 RICHIE STORIE. 
 The Earl o' Wigton had three daughters, 
 O braw wallie ! but they were bonnie ; 
 The youngest o' them, and the bonniest too, 
 Has fallen in love wi' Richie Storie. 
 
 *The following extract from a letter addressed by Keith, of 
 Benholm, to Captain Brown, at Paris, explains the subject of 
 this ballad, which was preserved by the peasantry of Annan- 
 dale, probably owing to the circumstance of Lord Southesque, 
 Lady Errol's brother, being at one time possessor of Hod- 
 dam Castle : " You may have heard ere this of Glencairne's 
 marriage with the Countess Dowager of Tweddell, mother- 
 in-lawe to your cousin ; and what accessione of French 
 landes Glencairne's son is lyke to bring to his familie, by 
 a cadet of their hous and name, a French marquis, who 
 hath carried my Lord Kilmaurs and his brother to France 
 for that effect. Then the death of your cousin's ladj', my 
 Lady Wigtoune ; with that of the Erll of Annandell, Bau- 
 vaird by his death becoming Viscount Stormont and Lord 
 Scoon. Lastly, the sadd (and not lyke heard of in this land 
 amongst eminent persons) story of the Erll of ErroU's im' 
 potencie, which is lyke, being cum to publick hearing, to 
 draw deeper betwix him and Southesk, than is alledgit it 
 hath done 'twixt him and Southesk's daughter. These are 
 themeane emergents we are taken up with, whilst beyond sea 
 empyres are overturning. Scoone, 22d. Feb. ,1659." — C.KS. 
 
 See also a version in Maidment's " North Countrie 
 Garland." 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 29 
 
 ** Here's a letter for ye, madame, 
 Here's a letter for ye, madame, 
 The Erie o' Home wad fain presume, 
 To be a suitor to ye, madame." 
 
 **I'l hae nane o' your letters, Richie, 
 I'l hae nane o' your letters, Richie, 
 For I've made a vow, and I'l keep it true, 
 That I'l have none but you, Ritchie." 
 
 ** O do not say so, madame, 
 O do not say so, madame, 
 For I have neither land nor rent, 
 For to maintain you o', madame. 
 
 *' Ribands ye maun wear, madame, 
 
 Ribands ye maun wear, madame, 
 
 With the bands about your neck, 
 
 O' the goud that shines sae clear, madame." 
 
 "I'l lie ayont a dyke, Richie, 
 I'l lie ayont a dyke, Richie, 
 And I'l be aye at your command. 
 And bidding whan ye like, Richie." 
 
 O, he's gane on the braid, braid road. 
 And she's gane through the broom sae bonnie, 
 Her silken robes down to her heels. 
 And she's awa' wi' Richie Storie. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 This lady gade up the Parliament stair, 
 Wi' pendles in her lugs sae bonnie, 
 Mony a lord lifted his hat, 
 But little did they ken she was Richie's lady. 
 
 Up then spak the Erie o' Home's lady, 
 ** Was na ye richt sorrie, Annie, 
 To leave the lands o' bonnie Cumbernauld, 
 And follow Richie Storie, Annie? " 
 
 ** O, what need I be sorrie, madame, 
 O, what need I be sorrie, madame, 
 For I've got them that I like best. 
 And war ordained for me, madame ! " 
 
 * ' Cumbernauld is mine, Annie, 
 Cumbernauld is mine, Annie, 
 And a' that's mine, it shall be thine. 
 As we sit at the wine, Annie."* 
 
 •John, third Earl of Wigtown, had six sons and three 
 daughters. The second, Lady Lillias Fleming, was so in- 
 discreet as to marry a footman, by whom she had issue. 
 She and her husband assigned her provision to Lieutenant- 
 Colonel John Fleming, who discharged her renunciation, 
 dated in October, 1673. — C. K. S. 
 
 This ballad was sung to the tune of " Braw lads o' Gala 
 Water." 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 31 
 
 XXXIII. 
 THE RAPE OF ARNGOSK. (A Fragment.)* 
 The Highlandmen hae a' come down, 
 They've a come down almost, 
 They've stowen away the bonnie lass, 
 The Lady of Arngosk. 
 
 * This fragment I cannot illustrate, either from history or 
 tradition. Sir William Murray, third son of Sir William 
 Murray of Tullibardine, married Margaret Barclay, the 
 heiress of Arngosk and Kippo, in the reign of King James 
 IV. ; but it is very unlikely that the ballad alludes to that 
 match, particularly as it is remembered to have concluded 
 with the lady's restoration to her friends, 2l finale not un. 
 common in such cases, with which, by the way, our Scottish 
 annals abound. — Ex. grat. a.d. 1336, Allan of Winton 
 forcibly carried off the young heiress of Seton ; this pro- 
 duced a feud in Lothian, some favouring the ravisher, while 
 others sought to bring him to punishment. Fordun saj's, 
 that on this occasion an hundred ploughs in Lothian were 
 laid aside from labour. Master Bowy, in his very curious 
 MS. History of the House of Glenurquhay, informs us 
 
 that "John Mackrom Macalaster M'Gregor, in anno , 
 
 ravischit Helene Campbell, dochtir to Sir Colene Campbell 
 of Glenurquhay, Knicht. This Helene Campbell was 
 widow, and Lady of Lochbuy, and she was ravischit. The 
 foresaid John was not richteous air to the M'Gregorj but was 
 principal of the clan Donlogneir." Sir Colin, "wha 
 departit this lyfe in the Tour of Straphillane, 24th Sept., 
 1480," understanding that his daughter had become recon- 
 ciled to her forced marriage, waylaid his son-in-law at the 
 hill of Drummond, slew him, and cutting off his head, put 
 it into a basket, and covered it with apples. This, as an 
 acceptable present, he sent to his daughter by a messenger, 
 charged not to mention what was concealed at the bottom. 
 In the pedigree of the clan Gregor, it is said that Malcolm 
 M 'Gregor married the lady with a view to coitciliate the 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 Behind her back they've tied her hands, 
 An' then they set her on — 
 **I winna gang wi' you," she said, 
 *'Nor ony Highland loon." 
 
 differences between the two families, and that she composed 
 a mournful song upon his death, which is still preserved : 
 probably the very ditty now attributed to Rob Roy's widow. 
 Bothwell's violence to Queen Marie is well known. In the 
 year 1591, Lord Fountainhall notes from the Criminal 
 Records of Edinburgh, " Dame Jean Ramsay, Lady 
 Warriston (she was of the house of Dalheusy), and Advo- 
 cate, contra Robert Carncroce. called Meikle Rob, and 
 others, for ravishing of her in March last, contrare to the 
 Acts of Parliament." 1594, " the 14th of August, Christian 
 Johnstoun, ane widow in Edinburgh, revest be Patrick 
 Aikenhead. The towne wes put in ane grate fray be the 
 ringing of the common bell ; the said Christiane was 
 followit and brocht back fra him, sua that the said Patrick 
 got no advantage of her." — BirreWs Diary. In the year 
 i68u, Patrick Carnegie, son to the Earl of Northesk, carried 
 off by force from the house of Pilcoye, Mary Gray, heiress 
 of Ballegerno, a child not quite eleven years of age. She 
 was recovered by her friends fifteen days after. The last 
 case I shall mention is from Fountainhall : "January 7th, 
 i638, James Boswell, in Kinghorn, brother to Balmuto, is 
 pursued by Anna Carmichael, for ravishing her out of her 
 father's house, and wounding her father, and carrying her 
 to the Queensferry, where she was rescued ; and being 
 absent, he is declared fugitive, whereon his escheat falls.', 
 It may be added that in Fountainhall's MS. is the following 
 curious notice concerning Lord Stormont, descended from 
 the heiress of Arngosk : " About this tj^me (June, 1668) was 
 given in a bill to the Lords of Secret Counsell complaining 
 on my Lord Stormond for fraudulent abstracting of Gibson, 
 the Laird of Durie's niece, to whom the custodie of her 
 person in law belongeth ; and for being art and part thereof, 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 MALCOLM OF BALBEDIE. 
 Balbedie has a second son, 
 
 They ca' him Michael Malcolm, 
 He gangs about Balgonie dykes, 
 
 Huntin' and hawkin' ; 
 He^s stowen awa' the bonnie lass, 
 
 An' kept the widow wakin'.* 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 I HAVE BEEN AT NEWBURN. 
 I HAVE been at Newburn, I was in the tower, 
 I have been in Scotland with a royal power, 
 I have been with Gilbert, and Marg'ret Kennedy, 
 But such a huffing parliament did I never see I 
 
 Thou shalt get a night-cap and a mourning ringj, 
 And to kepp thy head, thy friends a cloth shall 
 
 bring. 
 And in a wooden casement thy head shall be 
 
 bound, 
 But thy lusty corpse must stink above the ground. 
 
 by accession either antecedent, concomitant, or subsequent. 
 This bill was given in by Durie, and after a long 
 dispute, the wholle resulting on my Lord Stormond's oath, 
 he denied all accession thereto, though it was strongly 
 soupqouned he was not free." — C. K, S. 
 
 * Malcolm of Balbedie appears to have been a cadet of 
 the Lochor family, whose representative was created a 
 Baronet of Nova Scotia in the year 1665. I do not know 
 the anecdote on which this fragment was corajJosed. — 
 C.K.S. 
 
 C 
 
34 A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 Thou Shalt be conducted from Thames to Tweed - 
 
 side, 
 Like a malefactor thy feet shall be tyed, 
 And from that scurvy process the lawyers shall 
 
 be free, 
 Thou thought to catch these men, but we have 
 
 catcht thee.* 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 TO LAUDERDALE. 
 Lauderdale, what has become 
 
 Of all thy former huffing, 
 Has the Commons struck thee dumb. 
 
 And sent thee thus a snuffing ? 
 Or is it that the late address 
 For removing thee and Bess, 
 
 Does vex thee ? &c. 
 
 Since the kingdoms thou must quit. 
 
 And seek new habitation, 
 Will not thy proud Grace think fit 
 
 T' erect a new plantation ? 
 And since thou now begins to reel. 
 Pray thee go to Old Brazile, 
 And lord it, &c. 
 
 * This and the following song allude to some political 
 misfortunes of the Duke of Lauderdale, in the year 1675, 
 which are well known to every reader of history. Gilbert 
 is Dr. Burnet, and Margaret, Lady Margaret Kennedy, 
 his wife.— C.K.S. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 35 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 ANNIE LAURIE. 
 
 Maxwelton banks are bonnie, 
 Whare early fa's the dew ; 
 Whare me and Annie Laurie 
 Made up the promise true ; 
 Made up the promise true, 
 And never forget will I, 
 And for bonnie Annie Laurie 
 I'd lay down my head and die. 
 
 She's backit like a peacock. 
 She's breastit like a swan, 
 She's jimp about the middle. 
 Her waist ye weill may span ; 
 Her waist you weil may span, 
 And she has a rolling eye. 
 And for bonnie Annie Laurie 
 I'd lay down my head end die.* 
 
 * Sir Robert Laurie, first baronet of the Maxwelton 
 family (created 27th March, 1685), by his second wife, a 
 daughter of Riddell of Minto, had three sons and tour 
 daughters, of whom Annie was much celebrated for her 
 beauty, and made a conquest of Mr. Douglas of Fingland, 
 who is said to have composed these verses— under an 
 unlucky star, for the lady afterwards married Mr. 
 Ferguson of Craigderroch. 
 
36 A BOOK" OF BALLADS. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 FY, FY, MARG'RET. 
 
 {Tune : " How are ye, Kimmer? ") 
 
 "Fy, fy, Marg'ret are ye in? 
 
 I nae sooner heard it than I did rin, 
 
 Down the gate to tell ye, down the gate to tell 
 
 ye, 
 
 Down the gate to tell ye, well no be left the skin. 
 
 Weel might I kent a' was nae richt, 
 For I dreamt o* red and green a' the last nicht ; 
 And twa cats fechtin, and twa cats fechtin, 
 And twa cats fechtin, I waken' d wi' the fricht. 
 
 Fare ye weel, woman, I maun rin, 
 
 Trew ye, gif our neighbour Eppie be in, 
 
 And auld Robie Barber, and auld Robbie Barber, 
 
 And auld Robbie Barber, for I maun tell him. 
 
 ** Bide a wee, woman, and gies't a' out — 
 They're bringing in black Papary, I doubt, I 
 
 doubt, 
 And sad reformation, sad reformation. 
 Sad reformation in a' the kirks about. 
 
 Mickle do they say, and mair do we hear, 
 The Frenches and the Irishes are a' coming here. 
 And we'll be a' murder'd, murder'd, murdcr'd. 
 We'll a' be murder'd, before the new year." 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS, 37 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 3C ^ai(al», •Seine tbe Crue Cage of Mn. 
 €l0pet, a Uabg's ^Bentlewoman, near €&m- 
 burgb. 
 
 Lang hae I lo'ed the blate Mass John, 
 And sair my breast has smarted ; 
 
 I never saw a Dominie 
 
 Was half sae cruel-hearted ! 
 
 With pleasing words I feast his ears, 
 
 With dainty food I fill him ; 
 I would not take the Chamberlain, 
 
 But that did naething till him ! 
 
 When he was with the toothache fash'd, 
 
 I bled his gums with leeches ; 
 To keep him warm, I sewed mysel', 
 
 Three buttons on his breeches, 
 
 I lo'e him in a lawful way, 
 
 No lawful love is wicked ; 
 I ne'er set on the succar pan, 
 
 But he got aye a lick o't. 
 
 Whene'er my dearie would came in, 
 
 The door was never lockit ; 
 Nor wanted he for a la creesh, 
 
 And seed-cake in his pocket. 
 
38 A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 I cut the phlegm with Athole brose, 
 When cauld did quite confound him ; 
 
 I gave him wangrace in his bed, 
 And row'd the blankets round him. 
 
 With darning his auld coarsest sarks, 
 I scarce have left a thumb on ; 
 
 But sae I should, for chaplains used 
 To love the gentlewoman. 
 
 But tho' he reads the Bible book, 
 It makes but sma' impression ; 
 
 Indeed, he catch'd the cook with Kate, 
 And sent them to the Session. 
 
 They did not well in what they did, 
 
 So ill the matter ended ; 
 But lawful love's another thing, 
 
 And ought to be commended. 
 
 With comfort met we should delight. 
 Mankind should not miscarry ; 
 
 But he, for all that I can do, 
 Will neither burn nor marry. 
 
 Hoot, fye for shame — be brisk. Mass John, 
 
 Ye look as ye were sleepin' ; 
 Ye craw not like a stately fowl, 
 
 But cackle like a capon. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 39 
 
 Oh, dour, Mass John — oh, dreigh, Mass John, 
 
 When I have told you sae far ! 
 A shame hght on your loggerhead, 
 
 Ye doited, donnart, duffar ! * 
 
 XL. 
 
 THE DISTRAUGHT GUDE WIFE. 
 {Tune : " O London is a Fine Town.") 
 
 Was ever dame in such distress ? 
 
 My heart is full of care ; 
 Such various plagues torment my mind, 
 
 That I am in despair. 
 
 I'm on and off, and off and on, 
 
 And know not what to do ; 
 I have a cook to dress my meat, 
 
 But I want to get me two. 
 
 This cook a handy damsel is, 
 
 And dresses very weel. 
 Her kitchen is as clean's her face. 
 
 And her pewther shines like steel. 
 
 * This and the following ballad were written by Charles 
 Lord Binning, who died in the lifetime of his father, the 
 Earl of Haddington, 1733. (See Park's edition of Wal- 
 pole's "Royal and Noble Authors, vol. v.) 
 
40 A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 But she has no experience, 
 
 And has so little seen, 
 That when I want variety, 
 
 She kills me with the spleen. 
 
 I have a man cook in my view, 
 
 To help her out a dish. 
 That when she is employ'd with meat, 
 
 The lad may dress the fish. 
 
 But then the lad a head cook is, 
 
 And second will not be ; 
 I must pack off the lass, I fear, 
 
 For I can't afford her fee. 
 
 But then the lass has done no fault — 
 I'll keep her, I'm resolved — 
 
 I'll get the man to give her half, 
 And so the doubt is solv'd. 
 
 But what if they should not agree — 
 They will my victuals spoil ; 
 
 He'll say 'tis her, and she 'tis him, 
 And plague me with turmoil. 
 
 I'll not have him, and part with her, 
 And yet I'll have him too ; 
 
 I'll part with her — no, no, I won't — 
 O stars, what shall I do? 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 
 
 XLI. 
 COLD SIR PETER. 
 
 Oh, wherefor did I cross the Forth, 
 And leave my love behind me, 
 
 Why did I venture to the north. 
 With one that does not mind me ? 
 
 Had I but visited Carin ! 
 
 It would have been much better, 
 Than pique the prudes, and make a din, 
 
 For careless, cold, Sir Peter ! 
 
 I'm sure I've seen a better limb, 
 
 And twenty better faces ; 
 But still my mind it ran on him, 
 
 When I was at the races. 
 
 At night when we went to the ball. 
 Were many there discreeter ; 
 
 The well-bred Duke,* and lively Maule, 
 Panmure behav'd much better. 
 
 They kindly show'd their courtesy. 
 And look'd on me much sweeter. 
 
 Yet easy could I never be. 
 For thinking on Sir Peter. 
 
 * The Duke of Hamilton . 
 D 
 
4? A BOOK OF BALLADS, 
 
 I fain would wear an easy air, 
 But, oh ! it look'd affected ; 
 
 And e'en the fine Ambassador,* 
 Could see he was neglected. 
 
 Tho' Poury left for me the spleen, 
 My temper grew no sweeter ; 
 
 I think I'm mad, — what do I mean ? 
 To follow cold Sir Peter !t 
 
 XLII. 
 BALMANNO. 
 
 What charms can English Margaret boast 
 
 To fix thy inconstant mind, 
 And keep the heart that I have lost ? 
 
 O, cruel and unkind ! 
 
 * The Earl of Stair. 
 
 t This and the following songs were composed by Annie, 
 daughter of Sir James Mackenzie, Bart., a Senator of the 
 College of Justice, bearing the title of Lord Royston. She is 
 said to have inherited the wit of her grandfathers, the first 
 Earl of Cromartj', and Sir George Mackenzie, of Rose- 
 haugh, which in some cases overbalanced her discretion. 
 Her lampoons excited as much hatred as mirth, and she met 
 with those spiteful returns which such poetesses must ever 
 expect. This lively lady had no children by her husband. 
 Sir William Dick, of Prestonfield, Bart., and died in the 
 year 1741. Her Phaon, whom she seems to laugh at in 
 these verses, was Sir Patrick Murray,of Balmanno. — C.K.S. 
 
A BOOK OF BALLADS. 43 
 
 For I can kilt my coats as high, 
 
 And curl my red toupee 
 
 And I'll put on the English mutch, 
 
 If that has charms for thee. 
 
 Let no nymph toss thy leathern fan, 
 
 Nor damsel touch thy box ; 
 For I'll, Balmanno, have thee all, 
 
 Even take thee with a . . . ! 
 
 Since that's, alas ! thy woful case, 
 There's none so fit as I ; 
 
 For ne'er a lass in all the land, 
 Can boast more mercury.* 
 
 XLIII. 
 MRS. MITCHELL AND BORLAN. 
 
 ** Who's that at my chamber door ? " 
 '* It's T, my dear," quo' Borlan ; 
 
 *• Come in," quo' she, " let's chat awhile, 
 You strapping, sturdy Norlan." 
 
 * Written after a raffle, in which Sir Patrick gained a fan 
 and a snuff-box, English Margaret was Lady Margaret 
 Montgomerie, daughter to the Earl of Eglintoune, and 
 afterwards the wife of Sir James Macdonald, of Slate. She 
 is termed English, because she was educated at a boarding- 
 school near London. — C. K. S. 
 
44 A BOOH OF BALLADS. 
 
 Fair Mitchell needed add no more. 
 
 For Borlan straight did enter. 
 And on his knees he vow'd and swore. 
 
 For her he all would venture. 
 
 Fair Mitchell answer*d with a blush, 
 " Your love I don't intrust, sir. 
 
 But should it reach my father's ear. 
 How would he puff and bluster ! " 
 
 ** O, let him bluster as he will," 
 
 Replied the amorous lover; 
 ** If you* 11 consent my arms to fill. 
 
 Let him go to Hanover,*** 
 
 * From circumstauices, I suspect this song to be the 
 composition of Lady Dick, but am not certain. . 
 
 THE END. 
 
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 UNlVERSr 
 
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