The Romantic Scottish Ballads: Their Epoch and Authorship Part 3

[17] In a _Collection of Old Ballads_, printed for J.

Roberts, London, 1723; also in Thomson's _Orpheus Caledonius_, 1733.

[18] The appellative, Gilderoy, means the ruddy-complexioned lad.

Gif Gilderoy had done amiss, He might hae banished been; Ah what sair cruelty is this, To hang sic handsome men: To hang the flower o' Scottish land, Sae sweet and fair a boy; Nae lady had sae white a hand As thee, my Gilderoy.

Of Gilderoy sae 'fraid they were, They bound him mickle strong; Till Edinburgh they led him there, And on a gallows hung: They hung him high aboon the rest, He was sae trim a boy; There died the youth whom I lo'ed best, My handsome Gilderoy.

Thus having yielded up his breath, I bare his corpse away; With tears that trickled for his death, I washed his comely clay.

And sicker in a grave sae deep, I laid the dear-lo'ed boy; And now for ever maun I weep My winsome Gilderoy.

If any one will compare the Percy version of this ballad with the homely and indecorous ones printed before, he will not be the more disposed to go back to antiquity and a humble grade of authorship for what is best in the Scottish ballads.[19]

[19] Professor Aytoun says of this ballad, that 'it was adapted from the original by Sir Alexander Halket--at least, such was the general understanding until lately, when it became a mania with some literary antiquaries [a glance at the opinions of the present writer] to attribute the authorship of the great bulk of the Scottish ballads to Sir Alexander's sister, Lady Wardlaw, on the single ground that she was the composer of _Hardyknute_.' My learned friend is here very unlucky, for Lady Wardlaw had no brother, nor does any Sir Alexander Halket appear in her family history. This, however, is not all. It was a song to the _tune of Gilderoy_ which was attributed to Sir Alexander Halket (Johnson's _Scots Musical Museum_)--namely, the well-known _Ah, Chloris_, which turns out to be a composition of Sir Charles Sedley, inserted by him in a play ent.i.tled the _Mulberry Garden_, which was acted in 1668.

_Edward, Edward_, which Percy received from Sir David Dalrymple, and placed among his oldest pieces, in affectedly old spelling, is a striking melodramatic composition:

'Why does your brand sae drap wi' bluid, Edward, Edward?

Why does your brand sae drap wi' bluid, And why sae sad gang ye, O?'

'O, I hae killed my hawk sae guid, Mother, mother: O, I hae killed my hawk sae guid, And I had nae mair but he, O.'

'Your hawk's bluid was never sae reid, Edward, Edward; Your hawk's bluid was never sae reid, My dear son, I tell ye, O.'

'O, I hae killed my reid-roan steed, Mother, mother; O, I hae killed my reid-roan steed, That erst was sae fair and free, O.'

'Your steed was auld, and ye hae gat mair, Edward, Edward; Your steed was auld, and ye hae gat mair, Some other dool ye drie, O.'

'O, I hae killed my father dear, Mother, mother; O, I hae killed my father dear, Alas, and wae is me, O.'

'And whaten penance will ye drie for that, Edward, Edward?

And whaten penance will ye drie for that, My dear son, now tell me, O?'

'I'll set my feet in yonder boat, Mother, mother; I'll set my feet in yonder boat, And I'll fare over the sea, O.'

'And what will ye leave to your bairns and your wife, Edward, Edward?

And what will ye leave to your bairns and your wife, When ye gang over the sea, O?'

'The warld's room, let them beg through life, Mother, mother; The warld's room, let them beg through life, For them never mair will I see, O.'

'And what will ye leave to your ain mother dear, Edward, Edward; And what will ye leave to your ain mother dear, My dear son, now tell me, O?'

'The curse of h.e.l.l frae me sall ye bear, Mother, mother; The curse of h.e.l.l frae me sall ye bear, Sic counsels ye gave me, O.'

It seems unaccountable how any editor of Percy's discernment could ever have accepted this as old poetry. There is certainly none prior to 1700 which exhibits this kind of diction. Neither did any such poetry at any time proceed from a rustic uneducated mind.

When we continue our search beyond the bounds of Percy's _Reliques_, we readily find ballads pa.s.sing as old, which are not unlike the above, either in regard to their general beauty, or special strains of thought and expression. There are five which seem peculiarly liable to suspicion on both grounds--namely, _Johnie of Bradislee_, _Mary Hamilton_, the _Gay Gos-hawk_, _Fause Foodrage_, and the _La.s.s o'

Lochryan_.

In _Johnie o' Bradislee_, the hero is a young unlicensed huntsman, who goes out to the deer-forest against his mother's advice, and has a fatal encounter with seven foresters. Observe the description of the youth:

His cheeks were like the roses red, His neck was like the snaw; He was the bonniest gentleman My eyes they ever saw.

His coat was o' the scarlet red, His vest was o' the same; His stockings were o' the worset lace, And buckles tied to the same.

The shirt that was upon his back Was o' the Holland fine; The doublet that was over that Was o' the Lincoln twine.

The b.u.t.tons that were upon his sleeve Were o' the gowd sae guid, &c.

This is mercery of the eighteenth, and no earlier century. Both Gilderoy and Gil Morrice are decked out in a similar fashion; and we may fairly surmise that it was no man's mind which revelled so luxuriously in the description of these three specimens of masculine beauty, or which invested them in such elegant attire. Johnie kills the seven foresters, but receives a deadly hurt. He then speaks in the following strain:

'O is there a bird in a' this bush Would sing as I would say, Go home and tell my auld mother That I hae won the day?

'Is there ever a bird in a' this bush Would sing as I would say, Go home and tell my ain true love To come and fetch Johnie away?

'Is there a bird in this hale forest Would do as mickle for me, As dip its wing in the wan water, And straik it ower my ee-bree?'

The starling flew to his mother's bower-stane, It whistled and it sang; And aye the owerword o' its tune Was, 'Johnie tarries lang.'

The mother says in conclusion:

'Aft hae I brought to Bradislee The less gear and the mair; But I ne'er brought to Bradislee What grieved my heart sae sair.'

Now, first, is not the literary beauty of the above expressions of the young huntsman calculated to excite suspicion? It may be asked, is there anything in the older Scottish poets comparable to them? Second, how like is the verse regarding the starling to one in _Gil Morrice_!

Gil Morrice sat in guid green wood, He whistled and he sang; 'O what mean a' the folk coming?

My mother tarries lang.'

Then, as to the last verse, how like to one in _Young Waters_!

Aft hae I ridden through Stirling town, In the wind both and the rain, But I ne'er rade through Stirling town Ne'er to return again.

_Mary Hamilton_ describes the tragic fate of an attendant on Queen Mary, brought to the gallows for destroying her own infant. The reflections of the heroine at the last sad moment are expressed in the same rich strain of sentiment as some of the pa.s.sages of other ballads already quoted, and with remarkable parallelisms in terms:

'O aften hae I dressed my queen, And put gowd in her hair; But now I've gotten for my reward The gallows tree to share.

'I charge ye all, ye mariners, When ye sail ower the faem, Let neither my father nor mother get wit But that I 'm coming hame.

'O little did my mother think That day she cradled me, What lands I was to travel ower, What death I was to die!'

The Scottish ladies sit bewailing the loss of Sir Patrick Spence's companions, 'wi' the gowd kaims in their hair.' Sir Patrick tells his friends before starting on his voyage, 'Our ship must sail the faem;'

and in the description of the consequences of his shipwreck, we find 'Mony was the feather-bed that flattered on the faem.' No old poet would use foam as an equivalent for the sea; but it was just such a phrase as a poet of the era of Pope would love to use in that sense.

The first of the above verses is evidently a cast from the same mould of thought as Bradislee's mother's concluding lament, and Young Waters's last words just quoted. The resemblance is not of that kind which arises from the use of literary commonplaces or stock phrases: the expressions have that ident.i.ty which betrays their common source in one mind, a mind having a great command of rich and simple pathos.

In the _Gay Gos-hawk_, a gentleman commissions the bird to go on a mission to his mistress, who is secluded from him among her relations, and tell her how he dies by long waiting for her; whereupon she returns an answer by the same messenger, to the effect that she will presently meet him at Mary's Kirk for the effecting of their nuptials. The opening of the poem is just a variation of Bradislee's apostrophe to _his_ bird-messenger:

'O waly, waly, my gay gos-hawk, Gin your feathering be sheen!'

'And waly, waly, my master dear, Gin ye look pale and lean!