79
THE WIFE OF USHER'S WELL
A. 'The Wife of Usher's Well,' Minstrelsy of the Scottish
Border, II, 111, ed. 1802.
B. 'The Clerk's Twa Sons o Owsenford,' stanzas 18-23,
Kinloch MSS, V, 403.
B forms the conclusion, as already said, to
a beautiful copy of 'The Clerk's Twa Sons o
Owsenford,' recited by the grandmother of
Robert Chambers.
A motive for the return of the wife's three
sons is not found in the fragments which remain
to us. The mother had cursed the sea
when she first heard they were lost, and can
only go mad when she finds that after all she
has not recovered them; nor will a little wee
while, B 5, make any difference. There is no
indication that the sons come back to forbid
obstinate grief, as the dead often do. But supplying
a motive would add nothing to the impressiveness
of these verses. Nothing that we
have is more profoundly affecting.
A is translated by Grundtvig, Engelske og
skotske Folkeviser, No 14; by Freiligrath,
Zwischen den Garben, II, 227, ed. Stuttgart,
1877; by Doenniges, p. 61; by Rosa Warrens,
Schottische Volkslieder, No 9, with insertion
of B 5, 6; and by Knortz, Lieder und Romanzen
Alt-Englands, p. 227, after Allingham.
A
Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, II, 111, 1802, from the
recitation of an old woman residing near Kirkhill, in West
Lothian.
1
There lived a wife at Usher's Well,
And a wealthy wife was she;
She had three stout and stalwart sons,
And sent them oer the sea.
2
They hadna been a week from her,
A week but barely ane,
Whan word came to the carline wife
That her three sons were gane.
3
They hadna been a week from her,
A week but barely three,
Whan word came to the carlin wife
That her sons she'd never see.
4
'I wish the wind may never cease,
Nor fashes in the flood,
Till my three sons come hame to me,
In earthly flesh and blood.'
5
It fell about the Martinmass,
When nights are lang and mirk,
The carlin wife's three sons came hame,
And their hats were o the birk.
6
It neither grew in syke nor ditch,
Nor yet in ony sheugh;
But at the gates o Paradise,
That birk grew fair eneugh.
* * * * *
7
'Blow up the fire, my maidens,
Bring water from the well;
For a' my house shall feast this night,
Since my three sons are well.'
8
And she has made to them a bed,
She's made it large and wide,
And she's taen her mantle her about,
Sat down at the bed-side.
* * * * *
9
Up then crew the red, red cock,
And up and crew the gray;
The eldest to the youngest said,
'Tis time we were away.
10
The cock he hadna crawd but once,
And clappd his wings at a',
When the youngest to the eldest said,
Brother, we must awa.
11
'The cock doth craw, the day doth daw,
The channerin worm doth chide;
Gin we be mist out o our place,
A sair pain we maun bide.
12
'Fare ye weel, my mother dear!
Fareweel to barn and byre!
And fare ye weel, the bonny lass
That kindles my mother's fire!'
B
Kinloch MSS, V, 403, stanzas 18-23. In the handwriting
of James Chambers, as sung to his maternal grandmother,
Janet Grieve, seventy years before, by an old woman, a Miss
Ann Gray, of the Neidpath Castle, Peeblesshire: January 1,
1829.
1
The hallow days o Yule are come,
The nights are lang an dark,
An in an cam her ain twa sons,
Wi their hats made o the bark.
2
'O eat an drink, my merry men a',
The better shall ye fare,
For my twa sons the are come hame
To me for evermair.'
3
She has gaen an made their bed,
An she's made it saft an fine,
An she's happit them wi her gay mantel,
Because they were her ain.
4
O the young cock crew i the merry Linkem,
An the wild fowl chirpd for day;
The aulder to the younger did say,
Dear brother, we maun away.
5
'Lie still, lie still a little wee while,
Lie still but if we may;
For gin my mother miss us away
She'll gae mad or it be day.'
6
O it's they've taen up their mother's mantel,
An they've hangd it on the pin:
'O lang may ye hing, my mother's mantel,
Or ye hap us again!'
A.
42. fishes. The correction is suggested in ed. 1833 of the Border Minstrelsy. Aytoun reads freshes.
80
OLD ROBIN OF PORTINGALE
Percy MS., p. 90; Hales and Furnivall, I, 235.
This fine ballad was printed in the Reliques
of Ancient English Poetry, III, 48, ed.
of 1765, "with considerable corrections." The
information given by a page, the reward promised
and the alternative punishment threatened
him, the savage vengeance taken on the lady
and the immediate remorse, are repeated in
'Little Musgrave,' No 81. So the "Sleep
you, wake you" of 41, a frequent formula for
such occasions,[135] which we find in 'Earl Brand,'
No 7, D 1, 'King Arthur and King Cornwall,'
No 30, st. 493; 'Clerk Saunders,' No 69, F 4;
'Willie and Lady Maisry,' No 70, B 2, 11; 'The
Bent sae Brown,' No 71, st. 5; 'Lord Thomas
and Fair Annet,' No 73, E 5; 'Sweet William's
Ghost,' No 77, B 2; 'Jellon Grame,' A 4;
'The Drowned Lovers,' Buchan, I, 140, st. 11;
'Jock o the Side,' Caw's Museum, st. 16;
'Kinmont Willie,' Scott, st. 35; 'The Baron
of Brackley,' Scarce Ancient Ballads, st. 2;
the song or ballad in 'King Lear,' III, 6, 40;
Ravenscroft's Pammelia, 1609, No 30; the
interlude of 'The Four Elements' (Steevens);
Íslenzk Fornkvæði, II, 115, st. 26, 27; 'Der
todte Freier,' Erk's Liederhort, p. 75, No 24a,
Deutsches Museum, 1852, II, 167=Mittler
No 545, Wunderhorn, IV, 73, etc., and
Deutsches Museum, 1862, II, 803, No 10;
Ampère, Instructions, p. 36; Coussemaker,
No 48, st. 5; Kolberg, Pieśni ludu Polskiego,
No 7e, st. 8; etc.
Old Robin, instead of attaching a cross of
red cloth to the right shoulder of his coat or
cloak, shapes the cross in his shoulder "of
white flesh and of red," st. 32; that is, burns
the cross in with a hot iron, as was done sometimes
by the unusually devout or superstitious,
or for a pious fraud: Mabillon, Annales, ad
annum 1095, cited by Michaud, Histoire des
Croisades, I, 110, note, ed. 1825.
Translated by Bodmer, I, 153; by Knortz,
Lieder und Romanzen Alt-Englands, No 66.
1
God let neuer soe old a man
Marry soe yonge a wiffe
As did Old Robin of Portingale;
He may rue all the dayes of his liffe.
2
Ffor the maiors daughter of Lin, God wott,
He chose her to his wife,
And thought to haue liued in quiettnesse
With her all the dayes of his liffe.
3
They had not in their wed-bed laid,
Scarcly were both on sleepe,
But vpp shee rose, and forth shee goes
To Sir Gyles, and fast can weepe.
4
Saies, Sleepe you, wake you, faire Sir Gyles?
Or be not you within?
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
5
'But I am waking, sweete,' he said,
'Lady, what is your will?'
'I haue vnbethought me of a wile,
How my wed lord we shall spill.
6
'Four and twenty knights,' she sayes,
'That dwells about this towne,
Eene four and twenty of my next cozens,
Will helpe to dinge him downe.'
7
With that beheard his litle foote-page,
As he was watering his masters steed;
Soe s ...
His verry heart did bleed.
8
He mourned, sikt, and wept full sore;
I sweare by the holy roode,
The teares he for his master wept
Were blend water and bloude.
9
With that beheard his deare master,
As [he] in his garden sate;
Says, Euer alacke, my litle page,
What causes thee to weepe?
10
'Hath any one done to thee wronge,
Any of thy fellowes here?
Or is any of thy good friends dead,
Which makes thee shed such teares?
11
'Or if it be my head-kookes-man,
Greiued againe he shalbe,
Nor noe man within my howse
Shall doe wrong vnto thee.'
12
'But it is not your head-kookes-man,
Nor none of his degree;
But [f]or to morrow, ere it be noone,
You are deemed to die.
13
'And of that thanke your head-steward,
And after, your gay ladie:'
'If it be true, my litle foote-page,
Ile make thee heyre of all my land.'
14
'If it be not true, my deare master,
God let me neuer thye:'
'If it be not true, thou litle foot-page,
A dead corse shalt thou be.'
15
He called downe his head-kookes-man,
Cooke in kitchen super to dresse:
'All and anon, my deare master,
Anon att your request.'
16
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
'And call you downe my faire lady,
This night to supp with mee.'
17
And downe then came that fayre lady,
Was cladd all in purple and palle;
The rings that were vpon her fingers
Cast light thorrow the hall.
18
'What is your will, my owne wed lord,
What is your will with mee?'
'I am sicke, fayre lady,
Sore sicke, and like to dye.'
19
'But and you be sicke, my owne wed lord,
Soe sore it greiueth mee;
But my fiue maydens and my selfe
Will goe and make your bedd.
20
'And at the wakening of your first sleepe
You shall haue a hott drinke made,
And at the wakening of your next sleepe
Your sorrowes will haue a slake.'
21
He put a silke cote on his backe,
Was thirteen inches folde,
And put a steele cap vpon his head,
Was gilded with good red gold.
22
And he layd a bright browne sword by his side,
And another att his ffeete,
And full well knew Old Robin then
Whether he shold wake or sleepe.
23
And about the middle time of the night
Came twenty four good knights in;
Sir Gyles he was the formost man,
Soe well he knew that ginne.
24
Old Robin, with a bright browne sword,
Sir Gyles head he did winne;
Soe did he all those twenty four,
Neuer a one went quicke out [agen].
25
None but one litle foot-page,
Crept forth at a window of stone,
And he had two armes when he came in,
And [when he went out he had none].
26
Vpp then came that ladie light,
With torches burning bright;
Shee thought to haue brought Sir Gyles a drinke,
But shee found her owne wedd knight.
27
And the first thinge that this ladye stumbled vpon
Was of Sir Gyles his ffoote;
Sayes, Euer alacke, and woe is me,
Here lyes my sweete hart-roote!
28
And the second thing that this ladie stumbled on
Was of Sir Gyles his head;
Sayes, Euer alacke, and woe is me,
Heere lyes my true-loue deade!
29
Hee cutt the papps beside he[r] brest,
And bad her wish her will;
And he cutt the eares beside her heade,
And bade her wish on still.
30
'Mickle is the mans blood I haue spent,
To doe thee and me some good;'
Sayes, Euer alacke, my fayre lady,
I thinke that I was woode!
31
He calld then vp his litle foote-page,
And made him heyre of all his land,
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
32
And he shope the crosse in his right sholder,
Of the white flesh and the redd,
And he went him into the holy land,
Wheras Christ was quicke and dead.
61, 3, 232, 243. 24.
81. sist.
111, 121. bookes man: cf. 151.
142. never dye.
152. Cooke seems to be wrongly repeated.
193. 5.
203. first sleep.
212. 13.
253. 2.
254. So Hales and Furnivall.
261. ladie bright. Qy fayre?
262. burning light.
281. 2d.
302. thee & and.
323. sent him.
And always for &.
81
LITTLE MUSGRAVE AND LADY BARNARD
A. 'Little Musgrave and the Lady Barnard.' a. Wit
Restord, 1658, in the reprint "Facetiæ," London,
1817, I, 293. b. Wit and Drollery, 1682, p. 81.
B. Percy MS., p. 53; Hales and Furnivall, I, 119.
C. a. 'Little Mousgrove and the Lady Barnet,' Pepys
Ballads, I, 364. b. Pepys Ballads, III, 314. c.
Roxburghe Ballads, III, 146. d. Roxburghe Ballads,
III, 340. e. Bagford Ballads, I, 36.
D. 'Lord Barnard,' Kinloch MSS, I, 287.
E. 'Young Musgrave,' Campbell MSS, II, 43.
F. 'Lord Barnaby,' Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I,
170.
G. 'Wee Messgrove,' Motherwell's MS., p. 643.
H. 'Little Musgrave,' Motherwell's MS., p. 120.
I. 'Little Sir Grove,' Motherwell's MS., p. 305.
J. 'Lord Barnabas' Lady,' Motherwell's MS., p. 371.
K. Dr Joseph Robertson's Journal of Excursions, No
5.
L. 'Lord Barnett and Little Munsgrove,' Buchan's
MSS, I, 27: Scottish Traditional Versions of Ancient
Ballads, Percy Society, XVII, 21.
M. 'Little Mushiegrove,' Motherwell's Minstrelsy, Appendix,
p. xx, XXI, one stanza.
N. 'Little Massgrove,' communicated by Miss Reburn,
as learned in County Meath, Ireland, two stanzas.
A copy of this ballad in Dryden's Miscellany,
III, 312, 1716, agrees with the one in
Wit and Drollery. That in Ritson's Select
Collection of English Songs, II, 215, 1783,
agrees with Dryden's save in two or three
words. The broadside C a was printed for
Henry Gosson, who is said by Chappell to
have published from 1607 to 1641. If the
lower limit be correct, this is the earliest impression
known.[136] The other broadsides, C b-e,
are later, but all of the seventeenth century.
Percy inserted the ballad in his Reliques, III,
67, 1765, making a broadside in the British
Museum his basis, and correcting as usual.
Percy remarks: This ballad is ancient, and
has been popular; we find it quoted in many
old plays. Cases cited by him are: Beaumont
and Fletcher's Knight of the Burning Pestle,
v, 3, Dyce II, 223, of about 1611:
And some they whistled, and some they sung,
Hey down, down
And some did loudly say,
Ever as the lord Barnet's horn blew,
Away, Musgrave, away!
Again, Sir William Davenant's play 'The
Wits,' where Sir Thwack boasts, "I sing Musgrove,
and for the Chevy Chase no lark comes
near me," Act III, p. 194, of ed. 1672; and
'The Varietie,' a comedy, Act IV, 1649.
In Beaumont and Fletcher's 'Bonduca,' V,
2, Dyce, V, 88, dating before March, 1619,
we find this stanza, which is perhaps A 26,
loosely remembered:
She set the sword unto her breast,
Great pity it was to see
That three drops of her life-warm blood
Run trickling down her knee.
And two stanzas in Fletcher's 'Monsieur
Thomas,' IV, 11, Dyce VII, 375, earlier than
1639, may well be A 11, 12 parodied:
If this be true, thou little tiny page,
This tale that thou tellst me,
Then on thy back will I presently hang
A handsome new livery.
But if this be false, thou little tiny page,
As false it well may be,
Then with a cudgel of four foot long
I'll beat thee from head to toe.
Jamieson says, in a prefatory note to F,
that he had heard 'Little Musgrave' repeated,
with very little variation, both in Morayshire
and the southern counties of Scotland. All
the Scottish versions are late, and to all seeming
derived, indirectly or immediately, from
print.[137] As a recompense we have a fine ballad
upon the same theme, 'The Bonny Birdy,'
which is not represented in England.
In the English broadside and most of the
northern versions the lovers try a bribe, a
threat, or both, to make the page keep counsel.
In some of these Musgrave, when detected,
ejaculates a craven imprecation of woe
to the fair woman that lies in his arms asleep,
G 23, H 16, I 14, J 20, L 37. In I the men
are brothers; in E, F Musgrave has a wife of
his own; in C, G Lord Barnard kills himself;
in E he is hanged! None of these divergences
from the story as we have it in A are
improvements, but it is an improvement that
the lady should die by stroke of steel as in C,
E, H, J, K, L, in exchange for the barbarity
of A. The penance in L is a natural and
common way of ending such a tragedy. The
collecting of the lady's heart's blood in a basin
of pure silver, G 28-30, is probably borrowed
from 'Lammikin,' where this trait is very
effective.
The heathen child, B 131, is a child unchristened.
An unbaptized child seems still
to be called so in Norway, and so is a woman
between childbirth and churching. In modern
Icelandic usage a boy or girl before confirmation
is called heathen, from confusion between
baptism and confirmation: Ivar Aasen,
at the word heiden; Vigfusson, at the word
heiðinn.[138]
K 12,
O he's taen out a lang, lang brand,
And stripped it athwart the straw,
explains a corruption in E 182, where the
manuscript reads, He's struck her in the
straw, and another in J 9. The sword is
wiped or whetted on straw in 'Clerk Saunders,'
A 15, C 13, D 8, G 17; 'Willie and
Lady Maisry,' B 19; 'Lord Thomas and Fair
Annet,' B 36; 'Lady Diamond,' Buchan, II,
206, st. 8. Child Maurice dries his sword on
the grass, John Steward dries his on his
sleeve, A 27, 28; Glasgerion dries his sword
on his sleeve, A 22; Horn wipes his sword on
his arm, King Horn, ed. Wissmann, 622 f.
A
a. Wit Restord, 1658, in the reprint 'Facetiæ,' London,
1817, I, 293. b. Wit and Drollery, 1682, p. 81.
1
As it fell one holy-day,
Hay downe
As many be in the yeare,
When young men and maids together did goe,
Their mattins and masse to heare,
2
Little Musgrave came to the church-dore;
The preist was at private masse;
But he had more minde of the faire women
Then he had of our lady['s] grace.
3
The one of them was clad in green,
Another was clad in pall,
And then came in my lord Bernard's wife,
The fairest amonst them all.
4
She cast an eye on Little Musgrave,
As bright as the summer sun;
And then bethought this Little Musgrave,
This lady's heart have I woonn.
5
Quoth she, I have loved thee, Little Musgrave,
Full long and many a day;
'So have I loved you, fair lady,
Yet never word durst I say.'
6
'I have a bower at Buckelsfordbery,
Full daintyly it is deight;
If thou wilt wend thither, thou Little Musgrave,
Thou 's lig in mine armes all night.'
7
Quoth he, I thank yee, faire lady,
This kindnes thou showest to me;
But whether it be to my weal or woe,
This night I will lig with thee.
8
With that he heard, a little tynë page,
By his ladye's coach as he ran:
'All though I am my ladye's foot-page,
Yet I am Lord Barnard's man.
9
'My lord Barnard shall knowe of this,
Whether I sink or swim;'
And ever where the bridges were broake
He laid him downe to swimme.
10
'A sleepe or wake, thou Lord Barnard,
As thou art a man of life,
For Little Musgrave is at Bucklesfordbery,
A bed with thy own wedded wife.'
11
'If this be true, thou little tinny page,
This thing thou tellest to me,
Then all the land in Bucklesfordbery
I freely will give to thee.
12
'But if it be a ly, thou little tinny page,
This thing thou tellest to me,
On the hyest tree in Bucklesfordbery
Then hanged shalt thou be.'
13
He called up his merry men all:
'Come saddle me my steed;
This night must I to Buckellsfordbery,
For I never had greater need.'
14
And some of them whistld, and some of them sung,
And some these words did say,
And ever when my lord Barnard's horn blew,
'Away, Musgrave, away!'
15
'Methinks I hear the thresel-cock,
Methinks I hear the jaye;
Methinks I hear my lord Barnard,
And I would I were away.'
16
'Lye still, lye still, thou Little Musgrave,
And huggell me from the cold;
'Tis nothing but a shephard's boy,
A driving his sheep to the fold.
17
'Is not thy hawke upon a perch?
Thy steed eats oats and hay;
And thou a fair lady in thine armes,
And wouldst thou bee away?'
18
With that my lord Barnard came to the dore,
And lit a stone upon;
He plucked out three silver keys,
And he opend the dores each one.
19
He lifted up the coverlett,
He lifted up the sheet:
'How now, how now, thou Littell Musgrave,
Doest thou find my lady sweet?'
20
'I find her sweet,' quoth Little Musgrave,
'The more 'tis to my paine;
I would gladly give three hundred pounds
That I were on yonder plaine.'
21
'Arise, arise, thou Littell Musgrave,
And put thy clothës on;
It shall nere be said in my country
I have killed a naked man.
22
'I have two swords in one scabberd,
Full deere they cost my purse;
And thou shalt have the best of them,
And I will have the worse.'
23
The first stroke that Little Musgrave stroke,
He hurt Lord Barnard sore;
The next stroke that Lord Barnard stroke,
Little Musgrave nere struck more.
24
With that bespake this faire lady,
In bed whereas she lay:
'Although thou'rt dead, thou Little Musgrave,
Yet I for thee will pray.
25
'And wish well to thy soule will I,
So long as I have life;
So will I not for thee, Barnard,
Although I am thy wedded wife.'
26
He cut her paps from off her brest;
Great pitty it was to see
That some drops of this ladie's heart's blood
Ran trickling downe her knee.
27
'Woe worth you, woe worth, my mery men all
You were nere borne for my good;
Why did you not offer to stay my hand,
When you see me wax so wood?
28
'For I have slaine the bravest sir knight
That ever rode on steed;
So have I done the fairest lady
That ever did woman's deed.
29
'A grave, a grave,' Lord Barnard cryd,
'To put these lovers in;
But lay my lady on the upper hand,
For she came of the better kin.'
B
Percy MS., p. 53, Hales and Furnivall, I, 119.
* * * * *
1
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
'Ffor this same night att [Bucklesfeildberry]
Litle Musgreue is in bed with thy wife.'
2
'If it be trew, thou litle foote-page,
This tale thou hast told to mee,
Then all my lands in Buckle[s]feildberry
I'le freely giue to thee.
3
'But if this be a lye, thou little foot-page,
This tale thou hast told to mee,
Then on the highest tree in Bucklesfeildberry
All hanged that thou shalt bee.'
4
Saies, Vpp and rise, my merrymen all,
And saddle me my good steede,
For I must ride to Bucklesfeildberry;
God wott I had neuer more need!
5
But some they whistled, and some thé sunge,
And some they thus cold say,
When euer as Lord Barnetts horne blowes,
'Away, Musgreue, away!'
6
'Mie thinkes I heare the throstlecocke,
Me thinkes I heare the iay,
Me thinkes I heare Lord Barnetts horne,
Away, Musgreue, away!'
7
'But lie still, lie still, Litle Musgreue,
And huddle me from the cold,
For it is but some sheaperds boy,
Is whistling sheepe ore the mold.
8
'Is not thy hauke vpon a pearch,
Thy horsse eating corne and hay?
And thou, a gay lady in thine armes,
And yett thou wold goe away!'
9
By this time Lord Barnett was come to the dore,
And light vpon a stone,
And he pulled out three silver kayes,
And opened the dores euery one.
10
And first he puld the couering downe,
And then puld downe the sheete;
Saies, How now? How now, Litle Musgreue?
Dost find my gay lady sweet?
11
'I find her sweete,' saies Litle Musgreue,
'The more is my greefe and paine;'
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
* * * * *
12
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
'Soe haue I done the fairest lady
That euer wore womans weede.
13
'Soe haue I done a heathen child,
Which ffull sore greiueth mee,
For which Ile repent all the dayes of my life,
And god be with them all three!'
C