From Dr Thomas Davidson. Aberdeenshire.
1
'But wha will bake my bridal bread,
An brew my bridal ale,
And wha will welcome my bride hame,
Is mair than I can tell.'
2
'It's I will bake your bridal bread,
And brew your bridal ale,
But wha will welcome your bride hame,
It'll need tae be yersel.'
3
An she's hung up a silken towel
Upon a golden pin,
... tae wipe her een,
As she gaed but and ben.
I
Kinloch MSS, I, 155, May, 1827. "Composed of three
recited versions obtained in the west of Scotland."
1
'Learn to mak your bed, Annie,
And learn to lie your lane;
For I am gaing oure the saut seas,
A brisk bride to bring hame.
2
'Wi her I will get gowd and gear;
Wi thee I neer gat nane;
I got thee as a waif woman,
I'll leave thee as the same.
3
'O wha will bake my bridal bread,
Or brew my bridal ale?
Or wha welcome my brisk bride,
That I'll bring oure the dale?'
4
'O I will bake your bridal bread,
And brew your bridal ale;
But I downa welcam your brisk bride
That ye'll bring frae the dale.'
5
'She that welcomes my brisk bride,
She maun look maiden-like;
She maun kaim doun her yellow locks,
And lay them in her neck.'
6
'O how can I look maiden-like,
Whan maiden I am nane?
For seven sons I hae born to thee,
And the eighth lies in my wame.
7
'But what aileth thee at me, my lord,
What aileth thee at me,
Whan seven braw sons I've born to thee,
Out of my fair bodie?
8
'The first ane of your sons, my lord,
Can baith read and write;
And the second of your sons, my lord,
Can do it maist perfyte.
9
'The third ane o your sons, my lord,
Can water your grey steed;
And the fourth ane o your sons, my lord,
Can bake your bridal bread.
10
'The fifth ane o your sons, my lord,
Can serve ye whan ye dine;
And the sixth ane o your sons, my lord,
Can brew your bridal wine.
11
'The seventh ane o your sons, my lord,
Lies close at my breist-bane;
Whan a' the lave are fast asleep,
It's rest I can get nane.'
12
He set his foot into the stirrup,
His hand upon the mane;
Says, It will be year and day, ladie,
Ere ye see me again.
13
Whan he had ae foot on the sea,
The ither on dry lan,
'It will be year and day, ladie,
Till I come back again.'
14
Whan year and day war past and gane,
Fair Annie she thought lang;
And she went up to her hie tower,
Wi a silk seam in her hand.
15
She lookit east, she lookit west,
And south, below the sun,
And there she spied her ain gude lord,
Coming sailing to the lan.
16
She called up her seven braw sons,
By ane, twa, and by three:
'See, yonder comes your father,
And your mother-for-to-be.'
17
And she called up her servants a':
'O come, behold and see!
O yonder comes your master dear,
And a new mistress brings he.
18
'Gae doun, gae doun, my eldest son,
Into the outmost ha,
And if ye welcome ane o them,
Be sure to welcome a'.'
19
Some ran east, and some ran west,
And some ran to the sea;
There was na ane in a' his house
To welcome his new ladie.
20
But Annie's to her coffer gane,
Tane out a silver kaim,
And she's kaimd doun her yellow hair,
As she a maid had been.
21
And Annie has kaimd her lang yellow locks,
And laid them in her neck;
And she's awa to the saut, saut sea,
To welcome his lady aff deck.
22
She durst na ca him her ain gude lord,
For angering o the bride;
But she did ca him master dear,
And I wat he was richt glad.
23
'You're welcome, you're welcome, master,' she said,
'To your halls bot an your bouers;
And sae are a' thir merry young men
That come alang with you.
24
'You're welcome, you're welcome, fair ladie,
To your halls but an your bouers;
And sae are a' thir gay ladies;
For a' that's here is yours.'
25
'I thank ye, I thank ye, fair maiden,
I thank ye kindlie;
If I be lang about this house,
Rewarded ye sall be.
26
'I have a brither o mine ain;
He's newly come frae sea;
I think it wad be a richt gude match
To marry him and thee.'
27
'I thank ye, I thank ye, fair ladie;
Gie your brither to whom like ye;
But there's never ane in this warld
My wedding day sall see:
But one word o my master dear
In private wad I be.'
* * * * *
28
The first dish that fair Annie set doun,
She lookit baith pale and wan;
The neist dish that fair Annie set doun,
She was scarce able to stan.
29
'O is this your mistress, good lord,' she says,
'Although she looks modest and mild?
Then we will hunt her frae our house
Wi dogs and hawks sae wild.'
30
'She's na my mistress, dear lady,' he says,
'Altho she looks modest and mild;
Nor will we hunt her frae our house
Wi dogs and hawks sae wild.'
31
Whan bells war rung, and mass was sung,
And a' men boun for bed,
The bonnie bride and the bridegroom
In bride's bed they were laid.
32
Whan dinner was past, and supper was by,
And a' were boun for bed,
Fair Annie and her seven sons
In a puir bye-chamber war laid.
33
Fair Annie took out her virginals,
And sadly did she play;
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
34
'O gin my sons were yon grey rats,
That climb the castle-wa,
And I mysel a bloody grey cat,
I'd rise and worry them a'.'
35
Then out and spak the bonny bride,
In bride's bed whare she lay:
'I think this is like my sister Anne,
That doth sae sadly play.'
36
'Lie still, lie still, my gay ladie,
Lie still and sleep a wee;
It's nathing but an auld servant,
That waileth sae for me.'
37
'O gin my seven sons were seven young hares,
That rin round the castle wa,
And I mysel a bluidy grewhund,
I wad rise and worry them a'.'
38
The new bride waukenit in the nicht,
And blew upon her horn:
'I think I hear my sister's voice,
That was stown frae us a bairn.'
39
'Sleep on, sleep on, dear lady,' he says,
'It's yon maiden in her dream,
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
40
'O wha was eer thy father, fair maid,
Or wha was eer thy mither?
Or wha was eer thy ae sister,
Or wha was eer thy brither?'
41
'King Henry was my father,' she said,
'Queen Elinore was my mither;
Fair Marion was my ae sister,
Earl Robert was my brither.'
42
'Sin King Henry was your father, fair maid,
And Queen Elinore your mither,
O I am een your ae sister,
And ye are just the ither.
43
'Come to your bed, fair Annie,' she said,
'Come to your bed full sune;
I may weel say, I daur weel say,
There is na evil dune.
44
'Seven ships of gold did bring me here,
But ane shall tak me hame;
Six I will leave to my sister Anne,
To bring up her children young.
45
'But whan I gang to my father's ha,
And tirl on the pin,
The meanest in a' my father's house
Will ca me a forsaken ane.'
J
1
'Learn, O learn, Fair Annie,' he said,
'O learn to lie your lane;
For I am going ower the sea,
To woo and to bring hame
2
'A brighter and a fairer dame
Than ever ye hae been;
For I am going ower the sea,
To chuse and bring her hame.'
3
'What aileth thee, my ain gude lord,
What aileth thee at me?
For seven braw sons hae I born
Unto your fair bodie.
4
'The eldest o your sons, my lord,
Is heir o a' your land;
The second o your braw young sons
He rises at your right hand.
5
'The third o your braw young sons
He serves you when you dine;
The fourth o your braw sons, my lord,
He brings to you the wine.
6
'The fifth o your braw young sons
Right well can use the pen;
The sixth o your braw young sons,
He's travelling but and ben.
7
'The seventh o your braw young sons,
He lies on my breast-bane,
The fairest flower amo them a',
That lay my sides between.'
8
'But I am going ower the sea,
To woo and to bring hame
A lady wi some gowd and gear;
Wi you I never got nane.'
9
'Ye staw me awa in twall years auld,
Ye sought nae gowd wi me;
Ye put me to the schools o Ayr
For fully years three.
10
'But wha'll be cook in your kitchen,
And butler in your ha?
And wha will govern your merry young men,
When ye are far awa?'
11
'O ye'll be cook in my kitchen,
And butler in my ha,
And ye'll wait on my merry young men,
And serve them ane and a'.'
12
'But wha will bake your bridal bread,
And wha will brew your ale?
And wha will welcome that lady
That ye bring ower the dale?
13
'O ye will bake my bridal bread,
And ye will brew my ale,
And ye will welcome that lady
That I bring ower the dale.
14
'Ye'll bake bread, and ye'll brew ale,
For three score knights and ten;
That day month I gang awa,
The same day I'll come again.'
15
'O I will bake your bridal bread,
And I will brew your ale;
But oh, to welcome another woman
My heart will nae be hale.'
16
'Ye will put roses in your hair,
And ribbons in your sheen,
And ye will look fair maiden like,
Though maiden ye be nane.'
17
'O I'll put roses in my hair,
And ribbons in my sheen,
And may be look as maiden-like
As the bride ye bring hame.'
18
Two of his sons he sent before,
And two rade by his side,
And three he left at hame wi her,
She was the brightest bride.
19
As she was gazing her around,
To view the rural plain,
And there she saw the bridal folk,
Merrily coming hame.
20
'Come here, come here, my boys a',
Ye see not what I see;
For here I see your fair father,
And a step-mother to thee.
21
'O shall I call him honey, Sandy,
Husband, or my gude lord?
Or shall I call him my gude master,
Let well or woe betide?'
22
'Ye winna call him honey, mother,
For angering o the bride;
But ye'll call him your gude master,
Let well or woe betide.'
23
She buskd her bonny boys in black,
Herself in simple green,
A kaim o gowd upon her hair,
As maiden she had been.
24
She's taen the white bread in her lap,
The wine glass in her hand,
And she's gane out upo the green,
To welcome the bride hame.
25
She woudna ca him her ain gude lord,
For angering o the bride:
'Ye're welcome hame, my gude master,
Your lands lie braid and wide.'
26
'O fair mat fa you, Fair Annie,
Sae well's ye've welcomd me;
Ye might hae welcomd my new bride;
Some gift to you she'll gie.'
27
'Ye're welcome hame, ye new-come bride,
To your ha's and your bowers;
Ye're welcome hame, my lady gay,
Ye're whiter than the flowers.'
28
'O wha is this,' the bride did say,
'Sae well that welcomes me?
If I'm lang lady o this place
Some gift to her I'll gie.
29
'She's likest to my dear sister
That eer my eyes did see;
A landit lord staw her awa,
An ill death mat he die!
30
'I hae a brother here this day,
Fairer ye neer did see;
And I woud think nae ill a match
Unto this fair ladie.'
31
'Ye'll wed your brother on a stock,
Sae do ye on a stane;
I'll wed me to the kingdom of heaven,
For I'll neer wed a man.'
32
She servd the footmen o the beer,
The nobles o the wine;
But nane did cross her pale, pale lips,
For changing o her min.
33
When she came in unto the room
She leuch amo them a',
But when she turnd her back about
She loot the saut tears fa.
34
She hanged up a silken cloath
Upon a siller pin;
It was to dry her twa blue eyes,
As she went out and in.
35
Her heart wi sorrow sair was filld,
Her breast wi milk ran out;
She aft went to a quiet chamber,
And let her young son suck.
36
'There is a woman in this house
This day has served me;
But I'll rise up, let her sit down,
She's ate, that I may see.
37
'O wha is this,' the bride coud say,
'That serves this day sae well?
And what means a' this bonny boys,
That follow at her heel?'
38
'This is my sister, Fair Annie,
That serves this day sae well,
And these are a' her bauld brothers,
That follow at her heel.'
39
Then out it speaks the new-come bride,
Was full o jealousie:
'I fear there's something new, my lord,
Ye mean to hide frae me.
40
'But if she be your light leman
Has me sae sair beguild,
She shall gae out at my window,
And range the woods sae wild.'
41
When day was dane, and night drew on,
And a' man bound for bed,
The bridegroom and the new-come bride
In ae chamber were laid.
42
The lady being left alone,
Nursing her fair young son,
She has taen up her gude lord's harp,
She harped and she sung.
43
'Seven braw sons hae I born
To the lord o this place;
I wish they were seven hares
To run the castle race,
And I mysel a gude greyhound,
To gie them a' a chace.'
44
'Lie near, lie near, my ain gude lord,
Lie near and speak wi me;
There is a woman in the house,
She will be wild ere day.'
45
'Lie still, lie still, my new-come bride,
Lie still and take your rest;
The pale's out o my wine-puncheon,
And lang it winna rest.'
46
She held the harp still in her hand,
To harp them baith asleep,
And aye she harped and she sang,
And saut tears she did weep.
47
'Seven braw sons hae I born
To the gude lord o this ha;
I wish that they were seven brown rats,
To climb the castle wa,
And I mysel a gude grey cat,
To take them ane and a'.'
48
'Lie near, lie near, my ain gude lord,
Lie near and speak wi me;
There is a woman in this house,
She will be wild ere day.'
49
'Lie yond, lie yond, my new-come bride,
My sheets are wonderous cauld;
I woudna hear my love's lament
For your gowd ten thousand fauld.'
50
'O wae be to you, ye fause lord,
Some ill death mat ye die!
For that's the voice o my sister Ann,
Was stown frae yont the sea.'
51
'Fair mat fa ye, ye buirdly bride,
A gude death mat ye die!
For that's the voice o your sister Ann,
Was stown frae yont the sea;
I came seeking Annie's tocher,
I was not seeking thee.'
52
'Seven gude ships I hae brought here,
In seven I'se gae hame;
And a' the gowd that I brought here,
It's a' gang back again.'
53
'Seven ships they brought you here,
But ye'll gang hame in ane;
Ye'll leave the rest to tocher Ann,
For wi her I got nane.'
54
'Seven ships they brought me here,
But I'll gang hame in ane;
I'll get my sister's eldest son
To hae me maiden hame.
55
'My father wants not gowd nor gear,
He will get me a man;
And happy, happy will he be
To hear o his daughter Ann.
56
'I hae my sheen upon my feet,
My gloves upon my hand,
And ye'll come to your bed, Annie,
For I've dane you nae wrang.'
C.
'Fair Annie' I took this day from the recitation
of Janet Holmes, an old woman in Kilbarchan.
It was, as she described it, a "lang
rane" of her mother's. July 18, 1825.
Motherwell.
11. honey is probably a corruption of Annie.
54. his wig.
193. I must be understood, I as leal, but does not
require to be inserted.
204. Possibly not correct. To all would, no
doubt, be an easy reading, but the abrupt
exclamation is more like nature.
291. Oh.
E.
112. laugh.
143. harpd.
201. you hame.
F.
I.
281. sat.
452. tirls.
41 ff. In one of the Kinloch versions thus:
'King Henry is my father,' she says,
'Queen Orris is my mither,
And a' the bairns about the house
Are just my sister and brither.'
'O if ye be ane o thae, Fair Anne,
Sure I'm ane o' the same,
And come to your gude lord, Anne,
And be ye blythe again.
'For he never wed me for his love,
But for my tocher fee,
And I am as free o him this day
As the bairn on the nurse's knee.'
J.
362. hae served.
The following more obvious and entirely
superfluous interpolations have been
omitted from the text.
After 9:
But ye were feard the Duke of York
Should come and bide wi me,
As he showed kindness and respect,
Which greatly grieved thee.
But it fell ance upon a day,
'T was aye day by it lane,
Fair Annie was washing her fingers,
Above a marble stane.
O he that staw my ae sister
Did leave my bower full bare;
I wish a sharp sword at his breast,
Cauld iron be his share!
He looked ower his right shoulder,
A light laugh then gie he;
Said, Hear na ye my new-come bride,
Sae sair as she brands me?
The bride she patted wi her lips,
She winked wi her ee,
Yet never thought by the words he spake
'T was her sister, Annie.
When they had eaten and well drunken,
And all had fared fine,
The knight he called his butlers all,
For to serve out the wine.
Then out it speaks an English lord,
A smart young lord was he:
'O if she be a maiden fair,
Wi her I'se wedded be.'
The bridegroom gae a laugh at that
Amang his merry young men;
Says, There's a hynd chiel in the house
Runs far nearer her mind.
O if this be my sister dear,
It's welcome news to me;
I woud hae gien her thrice as much
Her lovely face to see.
63
CHILD WATERS
A. 'Childe Waters,' Percy MS., p. 274; Hales and
Furnival, II, 269.
B. a. 'Burd Ellen,' Jamieson's Brown MS., fol. 22. b.
'Lord John and Bird Ellen,' A. Fraser Tytler's
Brown MS., No 9.
C. 'Lady Margaret,' Kinloch's annotated copy of his
Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 180.
D. Kinloch MSS, VII, 325.
E. 'Fair Margaret,' Harris MS., No 8, p. 12 b.
F. Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 114, from Mrs Arrot
of Arberbrothick.
G. 'Cruel William,' Buchan's MSS, II, 129.
H. 'Burd Alone,' Motherwell's MS., p. 277.
I. Communicated by Dr Davidson, derived from Old
Deer, Aberdeenshire.
J. 'Burd Helen,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of
Scotland, II, 30.
A was printed in Percy's Reliques, III,
58, ed. 1765, with comparatively few changes.
B a was published by Jamieson, from Mrs
Brown's manuscript, in his Popular Ballads, I,
113, with some slight variation from the text,
many acknowledged interpolations, and the
addition of three sentimental stanzas to make
Burd Ellen die just as her enduring all things
is to be rewarded. In this tragic close, Jamieson
was anticipated by Mrs Hampden Pye, in
her 'Earl Walter,' 1771, Evans's Old Ballads,
II, 208, 1777. C is given as it appears in Kinloch's
annotated copy of his Ancient Scottish
Ballads, where ten stanzas are inserted to enlarge
and complete the copy published in
1827. This enlarged copy was communicated
to Chambers, and seven of the supplementary
stanzas were introduced into his compilation,
The Scottish Ballads, p. 193. These supplementary
stanzas, some of them certainly, and
we may suppose all, belonged to a copy of
which only the concluding portion, here given
as D, is elsewhere preserved.
The variations in the several versions of
this charming ballad, which has perhaps no
superior in English, and if not in English perhaps
nowhere,[82] are not material, and the story
may therefore be given as it runs in A, the
oldest copy. Fair Ellen comes to Child Waters,
and tells him that her gown, which was
too wide, is now too narrow. He bids her be
content and take two shires of land; she would
rather have one kiss from his mouth than
Cheshire and Lancashire both. He must ride
far into the North the next day; she asks to
be his foot-page. This she may be if she
will shorten her gown and clip her locks, so
as not to be known for a woman. He rides
hard all day, and she keeps up with him barefoot.
They come to a broad piece of salt water;
he lets her get through as she can, but
Our Lady bears up her chin. Then he points
out a splendid hall, where are four and twenty
ladies, and the fairest is his love and wife.
God give both good! is all she says. Arrived
there, Ellen takes his horse to the stable. At
bed-time he sends her to the town, to bring
him the fairest lady that can be found, to
sleep in his arms, and to bring this lady in her
arms, for filing of her feet. Ellen lies at the
foot of the bed, for want of other place, and
before dawn is roused by Child Waters to
feed his horse. The pains of travail come on
her in the stable; Child Waters' mother
hears her moans, and bids him get up. He
stands at the stable-door and listens. Ellen
sings: