THE JOLLY BEGGAR
A. ‘Ther was a wife in yon toun,’ “Old Lady’s Collection,”
No. 36.
B.a. ‘The Jolly Beggar,’ Herd, The Ancient and
Modern Scots Songs, 1769, p. 46; ed. 1776, II, 26.
b. ‘The Jolly Beggars,’ Curious Tracts, Scotland,
British Museum, 1078. m. 24. No 30 (a collection
made by James Mitchell at Aberdeen in 1828).
c. ‘The Jolly Beggar-Man,’ Macmath MS., p. 103,
a fragment. d. The same, a fragment.
I have not found this piece in any printed
collection older than Herd, 1769, but it is
cited in the second edition of Percy’s Reliques,
1767, II, 59 (preface to ‘The Gaberlunyie-Man’)
and was known before that to Horace
Walpole, who, as Percy remarks, confounds
it with ‘The Gaberlunyie-Man,’ or gives it
that title: Catalogue of Royal and Noble
Authors, II, 202 f., second edition, 1759 (not
mentioned in the first edition). It was probably
in circulation as a flying-sheet.[93]
We are regularly informed by editors that
tradition imputes the authorship of both ‘The
Jolly Beggar’ and ‘The Gaberlunyie-Man’
to James Fifth of Scotland. ‘The Gaberlunyie-Man’
was, so far as can be ascertained,
first printed in the Tea-Table Miscellany (in
1724), and I am not aware that it is mentioned
anywhere before that date. Ramsay
speaks of it as an old piece, but says nothing
about the authorship. The tradition as to
James Fifth is, perhaps, not much older than
the publication in either case, and has no
more plausibility than it has authority.
The copies in Pinkerton’s Select Scotish
Ballads, II, 35, 1783, Johnson’s Museum,
p. 274, No 266, 1790, Ritson’s Scotish Songs,
I, 168, 1794, etc., are all from Herd’s second
edition, 1776. In this we have, instead of
the Fa la la burden, the following, presumably
later (see Herd’s MSS, I, 5):
And we’ll gang nae mair a roving,
Sae late into the night,
And we’ll gang nae mair a roving, boys,
Let the moon shine neer sae bright,
And we’ll gang nae mair a roving.
Motherwell’s MS., p. 124, has a recited
copy which seems to be B a as in Herd, 1776,
corrupted by oral transmission. It does not
seriously differ from the original until we
come to the end, where we find an absurd
stanza which is derived from B b.
The variations of B b are not the accidents
of tradition, but deliberate alterations. ‘The
Jovial Beggarman,’ in The Forsaken Lover’s
Garland, No 15 of a collection of garlands,
British Museum, 11621. e. 1 (“Newcastle?
1750?”), is a rifacimento, and a very inferior
piece. Of this Rev. S. Baring-Gould took
down a copy from the singing of a laborer
on Dartmoor, in 1889.[94]
‘The Jovial Tinker and Farmer’s Daughter,’
British Museum, 1346. m. 7 (31), ‘The
Tinker and Farmer’s Daughter’s Garland,’
British Museum, 11621. a. 6 (34), is another
rifacimento, with less of the original in it.
The tinker, we are told at the outset, is a
noble lord disguised.
An English broadside ballad of the second
half of the seventeenth century, Pepys, III,
73, No 71, has the same story as the Scottish
popular ballad, and may have been the foundation
of it, but the Scottish ballad is a far
superior piece of work. The English broadside
is given, substantially, in the notes.
‘Der Bettelman,’ Hoffmann u. Richter,
Schlesische Volkslieder, p. 45, No 24, has a
generic resemblance to this ballad.[95] So, more
remotely, a Flemish ballad, ‘Ein schöner
Krüppel,’ Hoffmann, Niederländische Volkslieder,
p. 129 and elsewhere. Again, a very
pretty and innocent Portuguese ballad, ‘O
Cego,’ Almeida-Garrett, III, 191, No 35,
Braga, Romanceiro Geral, p. 147, No 55, and
Cantos pop. do Archipelago Açoriano, p. 372,
No 76 (all in Hartung, II, 103 ff.), which
Almeida-Garrett, quite extravagantly, supposed
might be derived from ‘The Gaberlunyie-Man,’
brought home from Scotland by
Portuguese sailors. There is an accidental
similarity in one or two points with the Spanish
ballad ‘Tiempo es, el caballero,’ Duran,
I, 163, No 307, Primavera, II, 91, No 158.
‘The Gaberlunyie-Man’ is given in an
appendix.
A
“Old Lady’s Collection,” No 36.
1
‘Ther is a wife in yone toun-end, an she has dothers three,
An I wad be a beager for ony of a’ the three.’
2
He touk his clouty clok him about, his peak-staff in his hand,
An he is awa to yon toun-end, leak ony peare man.
3
‘I ha ben about this fish-toun this years tua or three,
Ha ye ony quarters, deam, that ye coud gie me?’
4
‘Awa, ye pear carl, ye dinne kean my name;
Ye sudd ha caed me mistress fan ye called me bat deam.’
5
He tuke his hat in his hand an gied her juks three:
‘An ye want manners, misstres, quarters ye’ll gie me.’
6
‘Awa, ye pear carle, in ayont the fire,
An sing to our Lord Gray’s men to their hearts’ disire.’
7
Some lowked to his goudie lowks, some to his milk-whit skine,
Some to his ruffled shirt, the gued read gold hang in.
8
Out spak our madin, an she was ay shay,
Fatt will the jolly beager gett afore he gaa to lay?
9
Out spak our goudwife, an she was not sae shay,
He’se gett a dish of lang kell, besids a puss pay.
10
Out spak the jolly beager, That dish I dou denay;
I canne sup yer lang kell nor yet yer puss pay.
11
Bat ye gett to my supper a capon of the best,
Tuo or three bottels of yer wine, an bear, an we sall ha a merry feast.
12
‘Ha ye ony siler, carll, to bint the bear an wine?’
‘O never a peney, misstress, had I lang sine.’
13
The beager wadne lay in the barn, nor yett in the bayr,
Bat in ahind the haa-dor, or att the kitchen-fire.
14
The beager’s bed was well [made] of gued clean stray an hay,
. . . . . . . . .
15
The madin she rose up to bar the dor,
An ther she spayed a naked man, was rinen throu the flour.
16
He tuke her in his arms an to his bed he ran;
‘Hollie we me, sir,’ she says, ‘or ye’ll waken our pear man.’
17
The begger was a cuning carle, an never a word he spake
Till he got his turn dean, an sayn began to crak.
18
‘Is ther ony dogs about this toun? madin, tell me nou:’
‘Fatt wad ye dee we them, my hony an my dou?’
19
‘They wad ravie a’ my meall-poks an die me mukell wrang:’
‘O doll for the deaing o it! are ye the pear man?
20
‘I thought ye had ben some gentelman, just leak the leard of Brody!
I am sorry for the doing o itt! are ye the pore boddie?’
21
She tuke the meall-poks by the strings an thrue them our the waa:
‘Doll gaa we meall-poks, madinhead an a’!’
22
She tuke him to her press, gave him a glass of wine;
He tuke her in his arms, says, Honey, ye’ss be mine.
23
He tuke a horn fra his side an he blue loud an shill,
An four-an-tuenty belted knights came att the beager’s will.
24
He tuke out a pean-kniff, lute a’ his dudes faa,
An he was the braest gentelman that was among them a’.
25
He patt his hand in his poket an gaa her ginnes three,
An four-an-tuenty hunder mark, to pay the nires feea.
26
‘Gin ye had ben a gued woman, as I thought ye had ben,
I wad haa made ye lady of castels eaght or nine.’
B
a. Herd, The Ancient and Modern Scots Songs, 1769, p.
46. b. Curious Tracts, Scotland, British Museum, 1078, m.
24, No 30.
1
There was a jolly beggar, and a begging he was bound,
And he took up his quarters into a landart town.
Fa la la, etc.
2
He wad neither ly in barn, nor yet wad he in byre,
But in ahint the ha-door, or else afore the fire.
3
The beggar’s bed was made at een wi good clean straw and hay,
And in ahint the ha-door, and there the beggar lay.
4
Up raise the goodman’s dochter, and for to bar the door,
And there she saw the beggar standin i the floor.
5
He took the lassie in his arms and to the bed he ran,
‘O hooly, hooly wi me, sir! ye’ll waken our goodman.’
6
The beggar was a cunnin loon, and neer a word he spake
Until he got his turn done, syne he began to crack.
7
‘Is there ony dogs into this town? maiden, tell me true.’
‘And what wad ye do wi them, my hinny and my dow?’
8
‘They’ll rive a’ my mealpocks, and do me meikle wrang.’
‘O dool for the doing o’t! are ye the poor man?’
9
Then she took up the mealpocks and flang them oer the wa:
‘The d—l gae wi the mealpocks, my maidenhead and a’!
10
‘I took ye for some gentleman, at least the Laird of Brodie;
O dool for the doing o’t! are ye the poor bodie?’
11
He took the lassie in his arms and gae her kisses three,
And four-and-twenty hunder merk to pay the nurice-fee.
12
He took a horn frae his side and blew baith loud and shrill,
And four-and-twenty belted knights came skipping oer the hill.
13
And he took out his little knife, loot a’ his duddies fa,
And he was the brawest gentleman that was amang them a’.
14
The beggar was a cliver loon and he lap shoulder height:
‘O ay for sicken quarters as I gat yester-night!’
A.
62. disere.
92. puss might be russ here, but is unquestionable
in the next stanza.
242. blaest for braest. 262. ninge (nigne may
be what was intended).
B. b. A slip with no imprint. Dated in the Museum
catalogue 1800?
1
There was a jolly beggar, and a begging he had been,
With his fal de diddle de dal dal
And he took up his quarters in a house in Aberdeen.
With his toran oran ad de odi
2
This beggar would not lye in barn nor yet would he in byre,
But he would lye into the ha, or beyond the kitchen-fire.
3
The beggar’s bed it was well made, with clean straw and hay,
And beyond the kitchen-fire, there the jolly beggar lay.
4
The lassie then she did get up to bar the kitchen-door,
An there she met the jolly beggar, standing naked on the floor.
5
He gript the lassie by the middle jimp, laid her against the wa,
‘O kind sir,’ she said, ‘be civil, for ye will wake my dadda.’
6
He never minded what she said, but carried on his stroke,
Till he got his job done, then he began to joke.
7
‘Have you got any dogs about the house, or any cats ava?
For I’m feared she’ll cut my mealpocks before I gang awa.’
8
The lassie took up the mealpocks, threw them against the wa,
‘O deil tak your mealpocks! my maidenhead’s awa.’
9
The lassie she got up again the hour before ’twas day,
For to gie the beggar hansel before he went away.
10
She went into the cellar, to draw a pot of ale,
The beggar followed after, and did the job again.
11
He laid her on the ringle-tree, and gave her kisses three,
And he gave her twenty guineas, to pay the nurse’s fee.
12
‘Had you been an honest lass, as I took you to be,
You might have rode in your carriage and gone along with me.’
13
The beggar he took a horn and blew it wondrous shrill;
There was four-and-twenty belted knights came riding oer the hill.
14
‘Now if you are afraid you should miscall your child,
You may call him for the daddy o’t, the great Duke of Argyle.’
11, jelly: but
32, 42, jolly.
31. hay and straw.
91. hours.
132. kinpa for knights.
There are many other misprints; some, perhaps,
which are not corrected, as she’ll
cut, 72.
The copy in Motherwell’s MS, p. 124, ends:
He louted oure the saddle to her and gave her kisses three,
And he gave her fifty guineas, to pay the nourice-fee.
‘Oh had you been an honest maid, as I thocht ye wud hae been,
I would have made you lady of a’ the land, and then the Scotish queen.’
B. c.
From the recitation of Miss Jane Webster,
Crossmichael, August 8, 1893; learned by
her many years ago from her mother, Janet
Spark.
1
There was a jolly beggar, as mony a ane has been,
An he’s taen up his lodging in a house near Aberdeen.
Wi his yi yi yanti O, his eerie eerie an
Wi his fine tan taraira, the jolly beggar-man
2
He wadna lie in barn, nor he wadna lie in byre,
But he wad lie at the ha-door or the back o the kitchen-fire.
B. d.
From the recitation of the same, on the same
occasion; learned in youth at Airds of Kells,
from the singing of Thomas Duffy, joiner,
Parton.
Refrain:
Wi his long staff, and ragged coat, and breeches to his knee,
And he was the bauldest beggar-man that eer my eyes did see.
a.
4
Up rose the farmer’s daughter, for to bar the door,
There she beheld a naked man, was standing on the floor.
7
‘Hae ye ony cats or dogs, or hae ye eer a grew?
I’m feared they rive my meal-pokes, when I am kissing you.’
9
She’s taen up his meal-pokes an thrown them owre the wa:
‘O the deil gang wi your meal-pokes! for my maidenhead’s awa.’
‘It’s fare ye weel, gudewife, an it’s fare ye weel, gudeman,
Ye hae a gude fat doughter, an I rattled on her pan.
b.
12
‘If she had been an honest lass, as I took her to be,
She micht hae ridden in her coach-an-four this day along wi me.’
a.
12
Then he took oot a whistle, an he’s blawn baith loud and shrill,
There was four-an-twenty foresters cam at their master’s will.
13
Then he took oot a wee pen-knife, an let his duddies fa,
And he was the brawest gentleman that was amang them a’.
The English broadside, Pepys Ballads, III, 73, No
71.
THE POLLITICK BEGGER-MAN.
Who got the love of a pretty maid
And on her cittern sweetly plaid;
At last she slung her milk-pail over the wall,
And bid the De’l take milk-pail, maidenhead and all.
Tune is, There was a jovial begger.
[96]
Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, and J.
Clarke.
1
There was a jovial begger-man,
a begging he was bound,
And he did seek his living
in country and in town.
With a long staff and a patcht coat,
he prancd along the pad,
And by report of many a one
he was a proper lad.
His cheeks were like the crimson rose,
his forehead smooth and high,
And he was the bravest begger-man
that ever I saw with eye.
2
He came unto a farmer’s gate
and for an alms did crave;
The maid did like the begger-man
and good relief she gave.
She took him by the lilly hand
and set him to the fire,
Which was as well as tongue could tell
Or heart of man desire.
3
A curious mess of firmaty
for him she did provide,
With a lovely cup of nut-brown
and sugar sops beside.
. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
4
‘Sweet-heart, give me some lodging,
that I all night may stay,
Or else give me my answer,
that I may go away.’
The maid went to the hay-mow
and fetcht a bottle of hay,
And laid it behind the parlor-door,
On which the begger-man lay.
5
‘Resolve me,’ said the maiden,
‘if that you will or can,
For I do verily believe
thou art a gentleman.’
‘In truth then,’ said the begger,
‘my parents they are poor,
And I do seek my living
each day from door to door.’
6
‘’Tis pity,’ said this maiden fair,
‘that such a lively lad
Should be a begger’s only heir,
a fortune poor and bad.
I wish that my condition
were of the same degree,
Then hand in hand I’de quickly wend
throughout the world with thee.’
7
When he perceivd the maiden’s mind,
and that her heart was his,
He did embrace her in his arms
And sweetly did her kiss.
. . . . . .
. . . . . .
. . . . . .
. . . . . .
8
In lovely sport and merriment
the night away they spent
In Venus game, for their delight
and both their hearts content:
. . . . . .
. . . . . .
. . . . . .
. . . . . .
9
Betimes in the morning then,
as soon as it was day,
He left the damosel fast asleep
and nimbly budgd away.
When he from her an hour was gone
the damosel she did wake,
And seeing the begger-man not there
her heart began to ake.
10
Then did she sigh and wring her hands,
the tears did trickling pour,
For loosing her virginity
and virgins maiden flower.
When twenty weeks were come and gone
her heart was something sad,
Because she found herself with barn,
and does not know the dad.
11
‘There is, I see, no remedy
for what is past and gone,
And many a one that laughs at me
may do as I have done.’
Then did she take her milk-pail,
and flung it over the wall:
‘O the Devil go with my milk-pail,
my maidenhead and all!’
12
You maidens fair, where ere you are,
Keep up your store and goods,
For when that some have got their wills
They’l leave you in the suds.
Let no man tempt you nor entice,
be not too fond and coy,
But soon agree to loyalty,
Your freedom to enjoy.
44. go that way.
APPENDIX
THE GABERLUNYIE-MAN
Printed in the first volume of Ramsay’s Tea-Table
Miscellany, 1724, from which it was repeated
in Thomson’s Orpheus Caledonius, 1725, fol. 43,
and Old Ballads, III, 259, the same year; in the
Dublin reprint of the Miscellany, 1729, I, 96,
the “fifth edition,” London, 1730, and the ninth
edition, London, 1733, I. 84. The first edition,
1724, being of extreme rarity, if anywhere now to
be found, the piece is given here from Old Ballads,
which agrees with Orpheus Caledonius except as to
the spelling of a single word.
The Gaberlunyie-Man is one of the pieces which
were subjected to revision in the Miscellany; “such
old verses as have been done time out of mind,
and only wanted to be cleared from the dross of
blundering transcribers and printers, such as ‘The
Gaberlunzie-man,’ ‘Muirland Willy,’” etc. (Ramsay’s
preface.)
In recited copies, as the “Old Lady’s Collection,”
No 13 (Skene MS., p. 65), and Motherwell’s MS.,
p. 31, the girl is made to come back again to see
her mother (or the gaberlunyie-man brings her) ‘wi a
bairn in her arms and ane in her wame;’ but for
all that a fine lady, ‘wi men- and maid-servants at
her command.’
Translated by Herder, II, 264; Bodmer, I, 68;
Fiedler, p. 23; Loeve-Veimars, p. 356.
1
The pauky auld carle came oer the lee,
Wi many good eens and days to me,
Saying, Goodwife, for your courtesie,
Will ye lodge a silly poor man?
The night was cauld, the carle was wat,
And down ayont the ingle he sat;
My daughter’s shoulders he gan to clap,
And cadgily ranted and sang.
2
‘O wow!’ quo he, ‘were I as free
As first when I saw this country,
How blyth and merry wad I be!
And I wad never think lang.’
He grew canty, and she grew fain,
But little did her auld minny ken
What thir slee twa togither were sayn,
When wooing they were sa[e] thrang.
3
‘And O!’ quo he, ‘ann ye were as black,
As eer the crown of your dady’s hat,
’Tis I wad lay thee by my back,
And awa wi me thou shoud gang.’
‘And O!’ quoth she, ‘ann I were as white
As eer the snaw lay on the dike,
I’d clead me braw, and lady-like,
And awa with thee I’d gang.’
4
Between the twa was made a plot;
They raise a wee before the cock,
And wyliely they shot the lock,
And fast to the bent are they gane.
Up the morn the auld wife raise,
And at her leasure pat on her claiths;
Syne to the servants bed she gaes,
To speer for the silly poor man.
5
She gaed to the bed where the beggar lay,
The strae was cauld, he was away;
She clapt her hands, cry’d, Waladay!
For some of our gear will be gane.
Some ran to coffers, and some to kists,
But nought was stown that coud be mist;
She danc’d her lane, cry’d, Praise be blest,
I have lodg’d a leal poor man!
6
‘Since nathing’s awa, as we can learn,
The kirn’s to kirn and milk to earn;
Gae butt the house, lass, and waken my bairn,
And bid her come quickly ben.’
The servant gade where the daughter lay,
The sheets was cauld, she was away;
And fast to her goodwife can say,
She’s aff with the gaberlunyie-man.
7
‘O fy, gar ride, and fy, gar rin,
And hast ye find these traitors again;
For she’s be burnt, and he’s be slain,
The wearifu gaberlunyie-man.’
Some rade upo horse, some ran a-fit,
The wife was wood and out o’er wit;
She coud na gang, nor yet coud she sit,
But ay she cursd and she band.
8
Mean time far hind outoer the lee,
Fou snug in a glen, where nane coud see,
The twa, with kindly sport and glee,
Cut frae a new cheese a whang.
The priving was good, it pleasd them baith,
To loe her for ay he gae her his aith;
Quo she, To leave thee, I will be laith,
My winsome gaberlunyie-man.
9
‘O kend my minny I were wi you,
Illfardly wad she crook her mou;
Sic a poor man she’d never trow,
After the gaberlunyie-man.’
‘My dear,’ quo he, ‘ye’r yet oer young,
And ha na learnd the beggar’s tongue,
To follow me frae town to town,
And carry the gaberlunyie on.
10
‘Wi kauk and keel, I’ll win your bread,
And spindles and whorles for them wha need,
Whilk is a gentil trade indeed,
To carry the gaberlunyie, O.
I’ll bow my leg, and crook my knee,
And draw a black clout oer my eye;
A criple or blind they will ca me,
While we shall be merry and sing.’
32. my dady’s, Dublin, 1729, London, 1730, 1733.