The Romantic Scottish Ballads: Their Epoch and Authorship Part 5

The resemblance of these verses to several of the preceding ballads,[21] and particularly to _Sir Patrick Spence_, and their superiority in delicacy of feeling and in diction to all ordinary ballad poetry, is very striking. It chances that there is here, as in _Sir Patrick_, one word peculiarly _detective_--namely, strand, as meaning the sh.o.r.e. In the Scottish language, strand means a rivulet, or a street-gutter--never the margin of the sea.

[21] A pa.s.sage in _Hardyknute_ maybe quoted as bearing a marked resemblance to one of the above verses:

Take aff, take aff his costly jupe, Of gold well was it twined, &c.

There is a considerable number of other ballads which are scarcely less liable to suspicion as modern compositions, and which are all marked more or less by the peculiarities seen in the above group. Several of them are based, like the one just noticed, on irregular love, which they commonly treat with little reproach, and usually with a romantic tenderness. _Willie and May Margaret_[22] describes a young lover crossing the Clyde in a flood to see his mistress, and as denied access by her mother in a feigned voice, after which he is drowned in recrossing the river; the ballad being thus a kind of counterpart of the _La.s.s of Lochryan_. In _Young Huntin_, otherwise called _Earl Richard_, the hero is killed in his mistress's bower through jealousy, and we have then a verse of wonderful power--such as no rustic and unlettered bard ever wrote, or ever will write:

[22] Called, in Professor Aytoun's collection, _The Mother's Malison_; and in Mr Buchan's, _The Drowned Lovers_.

'O slowly, slowly wanes the night, And slowly daws the day: There is a dead man in my bower, I wish he were away.'

One called _Fair Annie_ relates how a mistress won upon her lover, and finally gained him as a husband, by patience, under the trial of seeing a new bride brought home.[23] In the latter, the behaviour of the patient mistress is thus described:

[23] A ballad named _Burd Ellen_, resembling _Fair Annie_ in the general cast of the story, is a Scottish modification of the ballad of _Child Waters_, published by Percy, from his folio ma.n.u.script, 'with some corrections.' It probably came through the same mill as _Gil Morrice_, though with less change--a conjecture rendered the more probable, for reasons to be seen afterwards, from its having been obtained by Mr Jamieson from Mrs Brown of Falkland.

O she has served the lang tables Wi' the white bread and the wine; And aye she drank the wan water, To keep her colour fine.

The expression, the wan water, occurs in several of this group of ballads. Thus, in _Johnie of Bradislee_:

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

And in the _Douglas Tragedy_:

O they rade on, and on they rade, And a' by the light o' the moon, Until they cam to yon wan water, And there they lighted down.

See further in _Young Huntin_:

And they hae ridden along, along, All the long summer's tide, Until they came to the wan water, The deepest place in Clyde.

The circ.u.mstance is very suspicious, for we find this phrase in no other ballads.

In _Clerk Saunders_, the hero is slain in his mistress's bower, by the rage of one of her seven brothers, whose act is described in precisely the same terms as the slaughter of _Gil Morrice_ by the bold baron:

He's ta'en out his trusty brand, And straikt it on the strae, And through and through Clerk Saunders' side He's gart it come and gae.[24]

_Sweet William's Ghost_, a fine superst.i.tious ballad, first published in Ramsay's _Tea-table Miscellany_, 1724, is important as the earliest printed of all the Scottish ballads after the admittedly modern _Hardyknute_:

There came a ghost to Margaret's door, With many a grievous groan; And aye he tirled at the pin, But answer made she none.

'O sweet Margaret! O dear Margaret!

I pray thee, speak to me; Give me my faith and troth, Margaret, As I gave it to thee.'

'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.'[25]

'If I should come within thy bower, I am no earthly man; And should I kiss thy rosy lips, Thy days will not be lang.

'My bones are buried in yon kirk-yard, Afar beyond the sea; And it is but my spirit, Margaret, That's now speaking to thee.'

She stretched out her lily hand, And for to do her best, 'Ha'e there's your faith and troth, Willie; G.o.d send your soul good rest.'

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.

'Is there any room at your head, Willie, Or any room at your feet?

Or any room at your side, Willie, Wherein that I may creep?'

'There's no room at my head, Margaret; There's no room at my feet; There's no room at my side, Margaret; My coffin's made so meet.'[26]

Then up and crew the red, red c.o.c.k, And up then crew the gray, ''Tis time, 'tis time, my dear Margaret, That you were going away.'

[24]

Now he has ta'en his trusty brand, And slait it on the strae, And through Gil Morrice's fair bodie He garred cauld iron gae.--_Gil Morrice._

[25]

And first he kissed her cherry cheek, And syne he kissed her chin; And syne he kissed her rosy lips-- There was nae breath within.--_La.s.s o' Lochryan._

To kiss cheek and chin in succession is very peculiar; and it is by such peculiar ideas that ident.i.ty of authorship is indicated.

[26] That is, so exactly measured.

So far, the ballad appears as composed in the style of those already noticed--a style at once simple and poetical--neither shewing the rudeness of the common peasant's ballad, nor the formal refinement of the modern English poet. But next follow two stanzas, which manifestly have been patched on by some contemporary of Ramsay:

No more the ghost to Margaret said, But with a grievous groan Evanished in a cloud of mist, And left her all alone, &c.

No such conclusion, perhaps, was needed, for it may be suspected that the verse here printed _sixth_ is the true _finale_ of the story, accidentally transferred from its proper place.

There is a slight affinity between the above and a ballad ent.i.tled _Tam Lane_, to which Scott drew special attention in his _Border Minstrelsy_, by making it a peg for eighty pages of prose dissertation _On the Fairies of Popular Superst.i.tion_. It describes a lover as lost to his mistress, by being reft away into fairy-land, and as recovered by an effort of courage and presence of mind on her part. It opens thus:

O I forbid ye maidens a', That wear gowd in your hair, To come or gae by Carterhaugh, For the young Tam Lane is there.

It may be remarked how often before we have seen maidens described as wearing gold in their hair. One maiden defies the prohibition:

Janet has kilted her green kirtle A little aboon her knee, And she has braided her yellow hair A little aboon her bree.

This, it will be observed, is all but the very same description applied to Margaret in the preceding ballad. The narrative goes on:

She had na pu'd a red, red rose, A rose but barely three, Till up and starts a wee, wee man At Lady Janet's knee.

Remember Sir Patrick's voyage:

They had na sailed a league, a league, A league but barely three.