« PreviousContinue »
18 'For she eat wi them, drank wi them,
welcomed them in; She drank to the villain that killed her guid man.
19 'Woe to ye, Kate Fraser I sorry may
yer heart be, To see yer brave baron's blood cum to yer knee.'
20 There is dule in the kitchen, and mirth
i the ha,
Lady Barbara Erskine, eldest daughter of John, Earl of Mar, was married to James, second Marquis of Douglas, near the end of the year 1670. The marriage did not prove to be happy, and the parties were formally separated in 10S1. The blame of the alienation of Douglas from his wife is imputed by tradition to William Lawrie, the marquis's principal chamberlain or factor, who was appointed to that place in 1670, the year of the marriage. Lawrie married Marion Weir, of the family of Blackwood, then a widow. He is often styled the laird of Blackwood, a title which belonged to his son by this marriage, his own proper designation being, after the birth of his son, the Tutor of Blackwood.
The ballad first appeared in print in the second edition of Herd's Scottish Songs, 1770, but only as a fragment of five stanzas. Most of the versions have from one stanza to four of a beautiful song, known from the first quarter of the eighteenth century, and printed fifty years earlier than any copy of the ballad (see Notes).
'Lord Douglas,' or, 'The Laird of Blackwood,' Kinloch MSS., 1, 9o; from the recitation of Mary Barr, Lesmahago. Lanarkshire, May, 1827, and learned by her about sixty years before from an old dey at Douglas Castle.
1 I Was a lady of high renown
As lived in the north conntrie;
2 Whan we cam through Glasgow toun,
We war a comely sight to see;
My gude Jord in velvet green,
3 Whan we cam to Douglas toun,
We war a flue sight to behold;
4 Whan that my auld son was born,
And set upon the nurse's knee,
5 But oh, an my young son was born,
And set upon the nurse's knee,
6 There cam a man into this house,
And Jamie Lockbart was his name,
7 There cam anither to this house,
And a bad friend he was to me;
8 O wae be unto thee, Blackwood,
And ae an ill death may ye dee!
9 Whan my gude lord cam in my room,
This grit falsehood for to see,
10 'O fare thee well, my once lovely maid!
O fare thee well, once dear to rae!
O fare thee well, my once lovely maid!
For wi me again ye sall never be.'
11 'Sit doun, sit donn, Jamie Douglas,
Sit thee doun and dine wi me,
12 'Whan cockle-shells turn silver bells,
And mussels they bud on a tree, Whan frost and snaw turns fire to burn. Then I 'll sit down and dine wi thee.' 13 O wae be unto thee, Blackwood,
And ae an ill death may ye dee!
14 Whan my father be heard word
That my gude lord bad forsaken
15 That morning before I did go,
My bonny palace for to leave,
16 'Fare thee well, Jamie Douglas!
Fare thee well, my ever dear to me I Fare thee well, Jamie Douglas I
Be kind to the three babes I 've born to thee.'
LOUDON HILL, OR, DRUMCLOG
This ballad gives an account of the fight at Drumclog, near Loudon Hill on the borders of the shires of Ayr and Lanark, June 1, 167'.', betweer. the " Gospel-lads " or Covenanters and Claverhouse. The Covenanters were commanded by Robert Hamilton, with whom were associated John Balfour of Kinloch, called Burly, and others.
'The Battle of Loudon Hill,' Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, in, l>s, 1n )3; Ji, 200, 1833.
1 You 'l marvel when I tell ye o
Our noble Burly and bis train,
2 Than they I neer o braver heard,
For they had a' baith wit and skill;
They proved right well, as I heard tell,
As they cam up oer Loudoun Hill.
3 Weel prosper a' the gospel-lads
That are into the west countrie
4 For he 's drawn up i battle rank,
An that baith soon an hastilie;
5 But up spak cruel Claverse then,
Wi hastie wit an wicked skill,
6 But up bespake his cornet then,
'It's be wi nae consent o me;
I ken I 'll neer come back again,
An mouy mae as weel as me.
7 'There is not ane of a' yon men
But wha is worthy other three;
8 'An as for Burly, him I knaw;
He \s a man of honour, birth, an fame;
9 But up spake wicked Claverse then —
I wat his heart it raise fu hie — And he has cry'd, that a' might hear, '.Man, ye hae sair deceived me.
10 'I never Eend the like afore,
Na, never since I came frae hame, That you sae cowardly here suld prove, An yet come of a noble Graeme.'
11 But up bespake his cornet then,
'Since that it is your honour's will, Mysel shall be the foremost man That shall gie fire on Loudoun Hill.
12 'At your command I 'll lead them on,
But yet wi uae consent o me;
13 Then up he drew in battle rank —
I wat he had a bonny train —
But the first time that bullets flew
Ay he lost twenty o his men.
14 Then back he came the way he gaed,
I wat right soon an suddenly;
15 Then up came Burly, bauld an stout,
Wi 's little train o westlaud men,
Wha mair than either aince or twice
In Edinburgh couflnd had been.
16 They hae been up to London sent,
An yet they 're a' come safely down; Sax troop o horsemen thev hae beat, And chased them into Glasgow town.
206 BOTHWELL BRIDGE
The report of the success of the Covenanters at Drumclog (see No. 205) brought four or five thousand malcontents into the rising. They established their camp on June 19, 1679, at Hamilton, on the south side of the Clyde, near the point where the river is crossed by Bothwell Bridge. The king named the Duke of Monmouth to command his army in Scotland. The royal forces were at Bothwell Muir on Jnne 22d, and their advanced guards within a quarter of a mile of the bridge. The duke marched his army to an eminence opposite the main body of the enemy, who lay on the moor (st. 10). The defenders of the bridge maintained themselves until their powder was exhausted, and then unwillingly withdrew to the main body. The bridge was cleared 6"f obstructions, and the royal army crossed and advanced against the rebels on the moor. The first fire made the Covenanters' horse wheel about, and their retreat threw the nearest foot into disorder; in consequence of which the whole army fell into confusion. Twelve hundred surrendered without resistance, the rest fled, and several hundred were killed in the pursuit.
Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, 111, 209, 1803; 11, 226, 1*33. From recitation.
1 'O Billie, billie, bonny billie,
Will ye go to the wood wi me?
2 'O no, O no !' says Earlstoun,
'For that's the thing that mauna be; For I am sworn to Bothwell Hill, Where I maun either gae or die.'
3 So Earlstoun rose in the morning,
An mounted by the break o day,
An he has joind our Scottish lads,
4 'Now, farewell, father! and farewell,
5 So they 're awa to Bothwell Hill,
An waly, they rode bonnily l
6 'Ye 're welcome, lads,' then Monmouth
7 'But yield your weapons ane an a',
O yield your weapons, lads, to me; For, gin ye 'll yield your weapons up, Ye 'se a' gae hame to your country.'
8 Out then spak a Lennox lad,
And waly, but he spoke bonnily!
9 Then he set up the flag o red,
A' set about wi bonny blue: 'Since ye 'll no cease, and be at peace, See that ye stand by ither true.'
10 They stolld their cannons on the height.
And showrd their shot down in the
11 As eer you saw the rain down fa,
Or yet the arrow frae the bow,
12 'O bold your hand,' then Monmouth
cry'd, 'Gie quarters to yon men for me;' But wicked Claverhouse swore an oath His cornet's death revenge! sud bf-.
13 'O hold your ham),' then Monmouth
cry'd, 'If ony thing yon 1l do for me; Hold up your hand, yon cursed Graeme, Else a rebel to our king ye 'll be.'
14 Then wicked Claverhouse turnd about —
I wot an angry man was he —
And cry'd, God bless his Majesty!
15 Than he 's awa to London town,
Ay een as fast as he can dree;
16 Alang the brae beyond the brig,
Mouy brave man lies cauld and still; But lang we 'll mind, and snir we 'll rue, The bloody battle of Bothwell Hill.
The duel in this ballad is on a par for historical verity with that in 'Johnie Scot' (No. D9). If there was to be a duel. Devonshire (Earl, he was not created Duke till 1694, the last year of Delamere's life) was well chosen for the nonce. He had fonght with Lord Mohun. in 1676. and was credited with challenging Count Konigsmark, in 1682. What is true in the ballad is that Delamere was a strenuous and uncompromising advocate of constitutional government, and that he and Devonshire were political and personal friends. Both were particularly active in bringing in the Prince of Orange; and so was Lord Danby, with whom, according to the title of B (not here printed), Devonshire was righting the dnel the year before the revolution.
'The Long-armed Duke,' taken down from recitation in Derbyshire, and first printed, about 1843, in a periodical called The Story Teller; afterwards in Notes and Queries, First Series, v, 243, 1852, by C. W. G.
1 Good people, give attention, a story you shall hear, It is of the king and my lord Delamere;
The quarrel it arose in the Furliament
put in force.
2 Says my lord Delamere to his Majesty
soon, 'If it please you, my liege, of you I 'll
soon beg a boou.' 'Then what is your boon? let me it
understand:' 'It's to have all the poor meu you have
in your land.
3 'And I 'll take them to Cheshire, and
there I will sow Both hempseed and flaxseed, and [hang]
them all in a row. Why, they M better be hanged, and
stopped soon their breath, If it please you, my liege, than to starve
them to death.'
4 Then up starts a French lord, as we do
Saying,' Thou art a proud Jack,' to my lord Delamere;
'Thou oughtest to be stabbed' — then he turnd him about —
* For affronting the king in the Parliament House.'
5 Then up starts his grace, the Duke of
Devonshire, Saying, I 'll fight in defence of my lord
Delamere. Then a stage was erected, to battle they
went, To kill or to be killed was our noble
6 The very first push, as we do under
stand, The duke's sword he bended it back
into his hand. He waited a while, but nothing he
spoke, Till on the king's armour his rapier he
7 An English lord, who by that stage did
stand, Threw Devonshire another, and he got it in his hand:
'Play low for your life, brave Devonshire,' said he,
'Play low for your life, or a dead man you will be.'
8 Devonshire dropped on his knee, and
gave him his death-wound;
0 then that French lord fell dead upon
the ground. The king called his guards, and he unto
them did say, 'Bring Devonshire down, and take the
dead man away.'
9 'No, if it please you, my liege, no lI 've
slain him like a man;
I 'm resolved to see what clothing he 's
got on. Oh, fie upon your treachery, your
treachery!' said he, 'Oh, king, 't was your intention to
have took my life away.
10 'For he fought in your armour, whilst
I have fought in bare;
The same thou shalt win, king, before thou does it wear.'
Then they all turned back to the Parliament House,
And the nobles made obesiance with their hands to their mouths.
11 'God bless all the nobles we have in our
land, And send the Church of England may
flourish still and stand; For I 've injured no king, no kingdom,
nor no crown, But I wish that every honest man might
enjoy his own.'
James Rntcliffe, Earl of Derwentwater, being suspected or known to be engaged in couc rting a rising in the north of England in behalf of the Pretender, a warrant was issued by the Secretary of State for his apprehension, towards the end of September, 1715. Hereupon he took arms, and he was one of the fifteen hundred English and Seots who were forced to an inglorious surrender at Preston, "^ijvember 14. Derwentwater was impeached
of high treason^and pleaded guilty, in January, 1716; was sentenced to death February 9, and was executed February 24.
'Lord Dnnwaters,' Motherwell's MS., p. 331, July 19, 1825, "from the recitation of Agnes Lile, Eilharchan, a woman verging on fifty; " learned from her father, who died fourteen years before, at the age of eighty. 'Lord Derwentwater,' Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 349.
1 Our king has wrote a lang letter,
And sealed it owre with gold;
2 He has not sent it with a boy, with a
3 The very first line that my lord did read,
He gave a smirkling smile;
4 'Come saddle to me my horse,' he said,
'Come saddle to me with speed; For I must away to fair London town, For me was neer more need.'
5 Out and spoke his lady gay,
In child-bed where she lay: 'I would have you make your will, my lord Dunwaters, Before you go away.'
6 'I leave to you, my eldest son.
My houses and my land;
7 'I leave to yon, my lady gay —
You are my wedded wife —
8 They had not rode a mile but one,
Till bis horse fell owre a stane: 'It's warning gude eneuch,' my lord Dunwaters said, 'Alive I 'll neer come hame.'