a. Alexander Fraser Tytler's Brown MS., No 2, written down from Mrs Brown's recitation in 1800. b. Scott's Minstrelsy, II, 49, 1802.

1 'O wha will shoe my fu fair foot?
And wha will glove my hand?
And wha will lace my middle jimp,
Wi the new made London band?
2 'And wha will kaim my yellow hair,
Wi the new made silver kaim?
And wha will father my young son,
Till Love Gregor come hame?'
3 'Your father will shoe your fu fair foot,
Your mother will glove your hand;
Your sister will lace your middle jimp
Wi the new made London band.
4 'Your brother will kaim your yellow hair,
Wi the new made silver kaim;
And the king of heaven will father your bairn,
Till Love Gregor come haim.'
5 'But I will get a bonny boat,
And I will sail the sea,
For I maun gang to Love Gregor,
Since he canno come hame to me.'
6 O she has gotten a bonny boat,
And sailld the sa't sea fame;
She langd to see her ain true-love,
Since he could no come hame.
7 'O row your boat, my mariners,
And bring me to the land,
For yonder I see my love's castle,
Closs by the sa't sea strand.'
8 She has taen her young son in her arms,
And to the door she's gone,
And lang she's knocked and sair she ca'd,
But answer got she none.
9 'O open the door, Love Gregor,' she says,
'O open, and let me in;
For the wind blaws thro my yellow hair,
And the rain draps oer my chin.'
10 'Awa, awa, ye ill woman,
You'r nae come here for good;
You'r but some witch, or wile warlock,
Or mer-maid of the flood.'
11 'I am neither a witch nor a wile warlock,
Nor mer-maid of the sea,
I am Fair Annie of Rough Royal;
O open the door to me.'
12 'Gin ye be Annie of Rough Royal—
And I trust ye are not she—
Now tell me some of the love-tokens
That past between you and me.'
13 'O dinna you mind now, Love Gregor,
When we sat at the wine,
How we changed the rings frae our fingers?
And I can show thee thine.
14 'O yours was good, and good enneugh,
But ay the best was mine;
For yours was o the good red goud,
But mine o the dimonds fine.
15 'But open the door now, Love Gregor,
O open the door I pray,
For your young son that is in my arms
Will be dead ere it be day.'
16 'Awa, awa, ye ill woman,
For here ye shanno win in;
Gae drown ye in the raging sea,
Or hang on the gallows-pin.'
17 When the cock had crawn, and day did dawn,
And the sun began to peep,
Then it raise him Love Gregor,
And sair, sair did he weep.
18 'O I dreamd a dream, my mother dear,
The thoughts o it gars me greet,
That Fair Annie of Rough Royal
Lay cauld dead at my feet.'
19 'Gin it be for Annie of Rough Royal
That ye make a' this din,
She stood a' last night at this door,
But I trow she wan no in.'
20 'O wae betide ye, ill woman,
An ill dead may ye die!
That ye woudno open the door to her,
Nor yet woud waken me.'
21 O he has gone down to yon shore-side.
As fast as he could fare;
He saw Fair Annie in her boat,
But the wind it tossd her sair.
22 And 'Hey, Annie!' and 'How, Annie!
O Annie, winna ye bide?'
But ay the mair that he cried Annie,
The braider grew the tide.
23 And 'Hey, Annie!' and 'How, Annie!
Dear Annie, speak to me!'
But ay the louder he cried Annie,
The louder roard the sea.
24 The wind blew loud, the sea grew rough,
And dashd the boat on shore;
Fair Annie floats on the raging sea,
But her young son raise no more.
25 Love Gregor tare his yellow hair,
And made a heavy moan;
Fair Annie's corpse lay at his feet,
But his bonny young son was gone.
26 O cherry, cherry was her cheek,
And gowden was her hair,
But clay cold were her rosey lips,
Nae spark of life was there.
27 And first he's kissd her cherry cheek,
And neist he's kissed her chin;
And saftly pressd her rosey lips,
But there was nae breath within.
28 'O wae betide my cruel mother,
And an ill dead may she die!
For she turnd my true-love frae my door,
When she came sae far to me.'

F

Herd MS., I, 31, II, 65.

1 'O wha will lace my steys, mother?
O wha will gluve my hand?
O wha will be my bairn's father,
While my luve cums to land?'
2 'O sall I lace your steys, dochter,
O sall I gluve your hand;
And God will be your bairn's father,
While your luve cums to land.'
3 Now she's gard build a bonie schip,
Forbidden she wad nae be;
She's gane wi four score mariners,
Sailand the salt, salt sea.
4 They had nae saild but twenty legues,
Bot twenty legues and three,
When they met wi the ranke robers,
And a' their companie.
5 'Now whether are ye the Queen hersell?
For so ye weel micht bee,
Or are ye the lass o the Ruch Royal,
Seekand Lord Gregorie?'
6 'O I am neither the Queen,' she sed,
'Nor sick I seem to be;
But I am the lass o the Ruch Royal,
Seekand Lord Gregorie.'
 *  *  *  *  *
7 And when she saw the stately tower,
Shynand sae cleere and bricht,
Whilk proud defies the jawing wave,
Built on a rock a hicht,
8 Sche sailed it round, and sailed it sound,
And loud, loud cried she,
'Now break, now break, ye fairy charms,
And let the prisoner free.'

G

Buchan's MSS. II, 149; Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 198.

1 It fell on a Wodensday,
Love Gregory's taen the sea,
And he has left his lady Janet,
And a weary woman was she.
2 But she had na been in child-bed
A day but barely three,
Till word has come to Lady Janet
Love Gregory she would never see.
3 She's taen her mantle her middle about,
Her cane into her hand,
And she's awa to the salt-sea side,
As fast as she could gang.
4 'Whare will I get a curious carpenter,
Will make a boat to me?
I'm going to seek him Love Gregory,
In's lands where eer he be.'
5 'Here am I, a curious carpenter,
Will make a boat for thee,
And ye may seek him Love Gregory,
But him ye'll never see.'
6 She sailed up, she sailed down,
Thro many a pretty stream,
Till she came to that stately castle,
Where Love Gregory lay in.
7 'Open, open, Love Gregory,
O open, and lat me in;
Your young son is in my arms,
And shivering cheek and chin.'
8 'Had awa, ye ill woman,
Had far awa frae me;
Ye're but some witch, or some warlock,
Or the mermaid, troubling me.
9 'My lady she's in Lochranline,
Down by Lochlearn's green;
This day she wadna sail the sea,
For goud nor warld's gain.
10 'But if ye be my lady Janet,
As I trust not well ye be,
Come tell me oer some love-token
That past 'tween thee an me.'
11 'Mind on, mind on now, Love Gregory,
Since we sat at the wine;
The rings that were on your fingers,
I gied thee mine for thine.
12 'And mine was o the good red goud,
Yours o the silly tin,
And mine's been true, and very true,
But yours had a fause lynin.
13 'But open, open, Love Gregory,
Open, and let me in;
Your young son is in my arms,
He'll be dead ere I win in.'
14 'Had awa, ye ill woman,
Had far awa frae me;
Ye're but some witch, or some warlock,
Or the mermaid, troubling me.
15 'But if ye be my lady Janet,
As I trust not well ye be;
Come tell me o'er some love-token
That past tween thee and me.'
16 'Mind on, mind on, Love Gregory,
Since we sat at the wine;
The shifts that were upon your back,
I gave thee mine for thine.
17 'And mine was o the good holland,
And yours o the silly twine,
And mine's been true, and very true,
But yours had fause lynin.'
 *  *  *  *  *

H

Communicated by Mr G. C. Mahon, of Ann Arbor, Michigan, as sung by a laborer, at Tyrrelspass, West Meath, Ireland, about 1830.

1 'Oh who'll comb my yellow locks,
With the brown berry comb?
And who'll be the child's father,
Until Gregory comes home?'
2 'Oh ...
. . . . . . .
And God will be the child's father,
Until Gregory comes home.'
 *  *  *  *  *
3 'The dew wets my yellow locks,
The rain wets my skin,
The babe's cold in my arms,
Oh Gregory, let me in!'
4 'Oh if you be the lass of Aughrim,
As I suppose you not to be,
Come tell me the last token
Between you and me.'
The dew wets, etc.
5 'Oh Gregory, don't you remember
One night on the hill,
When we swapped rings off each other's hands,
Sorely against my will?'
Mine was of the beaten gold,
Yours was but black tin.'
The dew wets, etc.
6 'Oh if you be the lass of Aughrim,
As I suppose you not to be,
Come tell me the last token
Between you and me.'
The dew wets, etc.
7 'Oh Gregory don't you remember
One night on the hill,
When we swapped smocks off each other's backs,
Sorely against my will?
Mine was of the holland fine,
Yours was but Scotch cloth.'
The dew wets, etc.
8 'Oh if you be the lass of Aughrim,
As I suppose you not to be,
Come tell me the last token
Between you and me.'
The dew wets, etc.
9 'Oh Gregory, don't you remember,
In my father's hall,
When you had your will of me?
And that was worse than all.'
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
The dew wets, etc.

I

Johnson's Museum, I, 5, No 5, 1787.

1 'Oh open the door, Lord Gregory,
Oh open, and let me in;
The rain rains on my scarlet robes,
The dew drops oer my chin.'
2 'If you are the lass that I lovd once,
As I true you are not she,
Come give me some of the tokens
That past between you and me.'
3 'Ah wae be to you, Gregory,
An ill death may you die!
You will not be the death of one,
But you'll be the death of three.
4 'Oh don't you mind, Lord Gregory,
'Twas down at yon burn-side
We changd the ring of our fingers,
And I put mine on thine?'

J

Motherwell's Note-Book, p. 12.

1 'O wha will shoe my pretty little foot?
And wha will glove my hand?
And who will lace my middle jimp
Wi this lang London whang?
2 'And wha will comb my yellow, yellow hair,
Wi this fine rispen kame?
And wha will be my bairn's father,
Till Lord Gregory come hame?'

K

Stenhouse's Johnson's Museum, IV, *107, communicated by Kirkpatrick Sharpe, "as generally sung by the people of Galloway and Dumfriesshire."

'O open the door, Love Gregory,
O open, and let me in;
The wind blows through my yellow hair,
And the dew draps oer my chin.'

A.

82. kine.

11. His mother: margin of the MS.

20. Mother: margin.

22. Lady.

23. Gregory: margin.

24. Mother: margin.

B.

13. who.

22, 42. Herd prints Tabean birben.

12. His mother speaks to her from the house and she thinks it him: margin of the MS.

141. has (?).

15 follows 17 in the MS.

163. Herd prints maidenhead.

20. The son speaks: margin.

251. corp(?).

C.

After 2. Then Lord Gregory's mother answers, counterfeiting her son.

After 4. The mother, still counterfeiting her son, says.

The old woman who sang the ballad, says Pitcairn, murmured over these words as a sort of recitative, and then resumed the song, with a slight variation of voice.

D.

34. linnen; probably a way of pronouncing London.

Jamieson adopts several readings from E a, besides making some slight alterations of his own, and inserts these two stanzas, "from memory," between 21 and 22:

Tak down, tak down the mast o goud,
Set up the mast o tree;
Ill sets it a forsaken lady
To sail sae gallantlie.
Tak down, tak down the sails o silk,
Set up the sails o skin;
Ill sets the outside to be gay
Whan there's sic grief within.

For the first of these see B 19.

E. a.

quha, ze, etc., of the MS. are printed wha, ye, etc.

b.

Scott's version, described as composed from B, E a, F, and two recited copies, is rather E a, excepting 63, 4 and 16, interpolated with six stanzas from B, five from F, and two lines from other sources, with a few verbal changes. It is, neglecting these verbal changes (also in part derived from B, E a, F), made up thus:

1-5=E a 1-5; 6=F 31 + F 34 + two lines from other sources; 7-9=F 4-6; 10=B 10; 11=F 7; 12=E a 7; 13=F 8; 14-20=E a 8-14; 21=B 16; 22=E a 15; 23-25=B 15, 18, 19; 26=E a 17; 27=B 20; 28-38=E a 18-28; 39=E a 281-3 + B 254.

Scott has Lord Gregory for Love Gregor, or Love Gregory, throughout, and Lochroyan for Rough (Roch) Royal.

34. Till Lord Gregory come to land.

63, 4.

The sails were o the light-green silk,
The tows o taffety.
243, 4. Fair Annie floated through the faem,
But the babie raise no more.

G.

44. Ands lands: Buchan prints In's.

62. For mony: Buchan prints Thro mony.

124. fause reason: Buchan prints fause lynin.

143. Buchan prints or vile warlock.

H.

"I find myself quite unable to arrange the fragments of the 'Lass of Aughrim' in anything like decent symmetry. The idea that I have of the arrangement is that the Lass begins with a sort of soliloquy, lamenting her condition; that she sings this at the door of a castle, shut against her; that she hears Gregory's voice within, and then appeals to him for admittance; and then comes the dialogue between them.

"The [third] stanza, as I heard the thing sung, was repeated as a burden after all the succeeding stanzas, even when the Lad and not the Lass speaks; but I do not think it followed the [first two] stanzas; they were a sort of introduction." Mr Mahon, December, 1884, May, 1885.

FOOTNOTES:

[125] Jamieson tells us, p. 44, that when a boy he had frequently heard the ballad chanted in Morayshire, and no mention was ever made of "fairy charms."

[126] C 3, 4 are evidently misplaced, and belong in that part of the story where B 8, 9 occur.

[127] Liebrecht has noted many of the above in his 'Volkskunde.' A man requires identification of a woman in a very ill preserved ballad in Motherwell's MS., p. 320.


77
SWEET WILLIAM'S GHOST

A. 'Sweet William's Ghost,' Ramsay's Tea Table Miscellany, "4th volume, 1740;" here from the London edition of 1763, p. 324.

B. Herd's MSS, I, 177, II, 49, stanzas 27 ff.

C. 'Marjorie and William,' Motherwell's MS., p. 262, 'William and Marjorie,' Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 186.

D. Dr Joseph Robertson's Note-Book, 'Adversaria,' p. 86.

E. 'Sweet William and May Margaret,' Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 241.

F. Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 83, stanzas 26 ff.

G. Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, III, 183, ed. 1833.

Ramsay's copy, A, was reprinted by Percy, Reliques, 1765, III, 128, and by Herd, 1769, p. 194, 1776, I, 76. Percy remarks that the concluding stanza seems modern. There can be no doubt that both that and the one before it are modern; but, to the extent of Margaret's dying on her lover's grave, they are very likely to represent original verses not remembered in form. B constitutes, in Herd's MSS, and F, in Jamieson's Popular Ballads, the termination of a copy of 'Clerk Saunders.' Scott appended the three stanzas given as G to the later edition of his rifacimento of the copies of 'Clerk Saunders' in Herd's MSS, and says of them: "I am informed by the reciter that it was usual to separate from the rest that part of the ballad which follows the death of the lovers, as belonging to another story." The first part of F was evidently derived from 'Proud Lady Margaret,' No. 47.

Motherwell notes, Minstrelsy, p. lxiii, 6, that in recited copies he had heard this stanza repeated, "which does not occur in printed copies" (and can easily be spared), after A 14.[128]

My meikle tae is my gavil-post,
My nose is my roof-tree,
My ribs are kebars to my house,
And there is nae room for thee.

The story of this ballad seems to have become disordered in most of the versions. A alone, the first published, has perhaps retained the original form. The principal idea is, however, preserved in all the full versions, A-E; the dead lover returns to ask back his unfulfilled troth-plight. His mistress, not knowing that he is dead, demands that he shall first come within her bower and kiss her, A, B, C. He answers that if he does this her days will not be long. She persists; he shall take her to kirk,[129] and wed her with a ring, A, E. He then tells her distinctly that he is dead, and she returns to him his faith and troth. She streaks her troth on a long wand and gives it to him through a window, B. In A she stretches out her white hand, "to do her best;" in C "takes up" her white hand, and strikes him on the breast; in E takes her white hand and smooths it on his breast; all of which are possibly corruptions of the ceremony performed in B. In D she takes a silver key and strikes him three times on the breast. She follows the dead till he comes to his grave, A, B, C, D (?) F, which is wrongly said in A, E to be far beyond the sea. She asks if there is room for her in his grave, and is told there is not, A, F [there is room, B, D]. She dies at his grave, A; is told that her days will not be long, F; in G, goes weeping away.

Margaret will not give William back his faith and troth, in B, D, E, unless he resolves certain questions about the state of the dead; what becomes of women that die in travail; where the women go who hang themselves for sin; where unbaptized children. Mere curiosity does not sort well with this very seriously conceived ballad, and these passages have probably grown out of a not unnatural inquiry on the part of Margaret as to her lover's personal state, extended in E 12 to "tell me the pleasures o heaven, and pains o hell how they be." The scene at the grave in C 11-13 may be judged grotesque, but is not trivial or unimpressive. These verses may be supposed not to have belonged to the earliest form of the ballad, and one does not miss them from A, but they cannot be an accretion of modern date.

Sir Walter Scott informs us, in the Advertisement to The Pirate, that the lady whose affections had been engaged by Goff, the historical prototype of Cleveland, "went up to London to see him before his death, and that, arriving too late, she had the courage to request a sight of his body; and then touching the hand of the corpse, she formally resumed the troth-plight which she had bestowed." "Without going through this ceremony," Scott goes on to say, "she could not, according to the superstition of the country, have escaped a visit from the ghost of her departed lover, in the event of her bestowing upon any living suitor the faith which she had plighted to the dead."[130]

'Sweet William's Ghost' has much in common with one of the most beautiful and celebrated of the Scandinavian ballads, and may well be a different development of the same story:

Danish. 'Fæstemanden i Graven' ('Aage og Else'), Grundtvig, No 90, II, 492-97, III, 870-74, A from a manuscript of the seventeenth century, B from about 1700, C from recent tradition. Swedish. 'Sorgens Magt,' A, B, Afzelius, No 6, I, 29, II, 204; C, Arwidsson, No 91, II, 103; D, Wigström, Skånska Visor, No 8, the same, Folkdiktning, I, 17, No 6, 'Den döde brudgummen:' all from recent tradition.

According to the oldest version, Danish A,[131] from which the others do not materially vary, a man dies just as he is to be married. His love grieves for him passionately. The dead hears her under the ground, comes to her bower with his coffin on his back, and knocks. She lets him in after he has proved himself to be "a spirit of health" by uttering the name of Jesus, combs his hair, and asks him how it is under the black earth (cf. English, E 12). It is like the bliss of heaven. May she follow him into his grave? It is like blackest hell. Every time she weeps for him his coffin is filled with lappered blood. But when she sings and is happy, his grave is all hung with rose-leaves. The cock crows, the white, the red, the black; he takes up his coffin and goes wearily back to the graveyard. His love follows through the mirk wood (so Swedish A 9, cf. English B 11), to the churchyard, and into the church. Then his yellow hair falls away, his rosy color wans. He bids her go home and never weep for him more. "Look up at the sky, the night is going;" and as she looks he slips into his grave. She goes sadly home, prays God that she may not live out a year and a day, falls sick, and dies within a month.

The Scandinavian ballad agrees in many particulars with the conclusion of the second lay of Helgi Hundingsbani in the older Edda. Helgi, having been slain by Sigrún's brother, is bitterly bewailed by Sigrún. He quits his barrow to come to her. Sigrún will kiss him, but his hair is thick with hoar-frost, he is drenched in blood, and how is this? These are the grim tears that Sigrún has shed, every one of which falls on his breast. Sigrún says she will sleep in his arms as though he were alive, and goes into the barrow with him. The end of the story is lost; according to a prose tradition which professes to supply the close, Sigrún soon died of grief. The source of the later ballads is perceptible here.

In the English ballad the dead lover returns of his own motion, simply to ask back his troth; in the Scandinavian, his betrothed grieves him out of his grave, "hon sörjer sin fästeman ur graf," and the object of his visit is to admonish her to restrain her tears, which prevent his happy repose. A fragmentary story with this turn, which perhaps may even have been a variety of 'Sweet William's Ghost,' will be found in the ballad which follows this.

In a somewhat popular German ballad, 'Der todte Freier,' a dead man comes to the window of his betrothed in the night and calls her. She does not recognize him; says he smells of the ground. He has been eight years in the ground, and that may be. He bids her summon father, mother, and friends, for her bridegroom has come. She is decked as for her wedding; at the first sound of the bell makes her will or receives the sacrament, and dies at the second.[132]

A young man goes to the grave of his betrothed and asks his love-tokens back; she refers him to her mother, and tells him she will join him in a year: Haupt u. Schmaler, I, 88, No 55. This returning of gifts by the dead is not an infrequent phenomenon: Čelakowský, i, 4, No 2=Wenzig, Slawische Volkslieder, p. 57, and III, 16, No 6; Beaurepaire, p. 53, Le Héricher, Lit. pop. de Normandie, p. 160 f; Briz y Candi, I, 140, Milá, Observaciones, p. 155, No 50, Milá, Romancerillo, pp 320-22, No 337, D, E, A11, B11.


A is translated by Grundtvig, Engelske og skotske Folkeviser, p. 34, No 4; by Herder, Book III, No 8; Bodmer, II, 36; Wackernagel, Altdeutsche Blätter, I, 189; Döring, p. 391; Knortz, Lieder u. Romanzen Alt-Englands, p. 86, No 23; von Marées, p. 24. C by Grundtvig, p. 319, No 90; Wolff, Halle der Völker, I, 30, Hausschatz, p. 205; Knortz, as above, p. 179, No 49. A compound of D, C, A, by Rosa Warrens, Schottische Volkslieder, p. 53, No 12.

A

Ramsay's Tea Table Miscellany, "4th volume, 1740;" here from the London edition of 1763, p. 324.

1 There came a ghost to Margret's door,
With many a grievous groan,
And ay he tirled at the pin,
But answer made she none.
2 'Is that my father Philip,
Or is't my brother John?
Or is't my true-love, Willy,
From Scotland new come home?'
3 ''Tis not thy father Philip,
Nor yet thy brother John;
But 'tis thy true-love, Willy,
From Scotland new come home.
4 'O sweet Margret, O dear Margret,
I pray thee speak to me;
Give me my faith and troth, Margret,
As I gave it to thee.'
5 'Thy faith and troth thou's never get,
Nor yet will I thee lend,
Till that thou come within my bower,
And kiss my cheek and chin.'
6 'If I shoud come within thy bower,
I am no earthly man;
And shoud I kiss thy rosy lips,
Thy days will not be lang.
7 'O sweet Margret, O dear Margret,
I pray thee speak to me;
Give me my faith and troth, Margret,
As I gave it to thee.'
8 'Thy faith and troth thou's never get,
Nor yet will I thee lend,
Till you take me to yon kirk,
And wed me with a ring.'
9 'My bones are buried in yon kirk-yard,
Afar beyond the sea,
And it is but my spirit, Margret,
That's now speaking to thee.'
10 She stretchd out her lilly-white hand,
And, for to do her best,
'Hae, there's your faith and troth, Willy,
God send your soul good rest.'
11 Now she has kilted her robes of green
A piece below her knee,
And a' the live-lang winter night
The dead corp followed she.
12 'Is there any room at your head, Willy?
Or any room at your feet?
Or any room at your side, Willy,
Wherein that I may creep?'
13 'There's no room at my head, Margret,
There's no room at my feet;
There's no room at my side, Margret,
My coffin's made so meet.'
14 Then up and crew the red, red cock,
And up then crew the gray:
'Tis time, tis time, my dear Margret,
That you were going away.'
15 No more the ghost to Margret said,
But, with a grievous groan,
Evanishd in a cloud of mist,
And left her all alone.
16 'O stay, my only true-love, stay,'
The constant Margret cry'd;
Wan grew her cheeks, she closd her een,
Stretchd her soft limbs, and dy'd.

B