For this edition, being the month of February, I’d like to share some old Scottish love ballads with you. However, these are not the epitome of what we would consider romantic today! But, they depict true emotion, and maybe a strong dose of heartache, while also giving a glimpse of a world gone by.
The first one I’d like to share is called Barbara Allen. The song originates as far back as the mid-17th century, and possibly much earlier. Its earliest known reference is from the diary of one Samuel Pepys, dated 1666. It was later published in London in 1690 under the name “Barbara Allen’s Cruelty.” Apparently, both the Scots and the English claimed ownership of the song, or at least of different versions of it. However, since the earliest reference calls it a “little Scotch song,” that is good enough for me.
Barbara Allen In Scarlet town where I was born There was a fair maid dwelling And every youth cried well away For her name was Barbara Allen Twas in the merry month of May The green buds were a swelling Sweet William on his deathbed lay For the love of Barbara Allen He sent a servant unto her To the place she was dwelling Saying you must come to his deathbed now If your name be Barbara Allen Slowly slowly she got up Slowly slowly she came nigh him And the only words to him she said Young man I think you're dying As she was walking oer the fields She heard the death bell knelling And every stroke it seemed to say Hardhearted Barbara Allen Oh mother mother make my bed Make it long and make it narrow Sweet William died for me today I'll die for him tomorrow |  Barbara Allen illustration by Henry Brock, 1934 They buried her in the old churchyard They buried him in the choir And from his grave grew a red red rose From her grave a green briar They grew and grew to the steeple top Till they could grow no higher And there they twined in a true love's knot Red rose around green briar |
This next ballad comes from the Orkney Islands. It was recorded during the great age of folklore in the 19th century, but again is likely far older. There are many variations on this song, and one mentions that the woman in the story is from Norway. It’s about a young Orcadian lass who falls for a Selkie man and bears him a son, only to see the father of her child disappear back into the sea. He later returns as a grey seal and takes her son back to the water with him. The woman later marries a man who happens to be a hunter… of seals. You see where this is going…
The Great Selchie of Sule Skerry I heard a mother lull her bairn, and aye she rocked, and aye she sang. She took so hard upon the verse that the heart within her body rang. "O, cradle row, and cradle go, and aye sleep well, my bairn within; I ken not who thy father is, nor yet the land that he dwells in." And up then spake a grey selchie as aye he woke her from her sleep, "I'll tell where thy bairn's father is: he's sittin' close by thy bed feet.  Faroese stamp, The Seal Woman "Upon the skerry is thy son; upon the skerry lieth he. Sin thou would see thine ain young son, now is the time tae speak wi' he." "But how shall I my young son know when thou ha' ta'en him far frae me?" "The one who wears the chain o' gowd, `mang a' the selchies shall be he. "And thou will get a hunter good, and a richt fine hunter I'm sure he'll be; and the first ae shot that e'er he shoots will kill baith my young son and me." |  Selkie stamp issued by the Faroe Islands "I am a man upon the land; I am a selchie on the sea, and when I'm far frae ev'ry strand, my dwelling is in Sule Skerry. "And foster well my wee young son, aye for a twal'month and a day, and when that twal'month's fairly done, I'll come and pay the nourice fee." And when that weary twal'month gaed, he's come tae pay the nourice fee; he had ae coffer fu' o' gowd, and anither fu' o'the white money  Faroese Stamp depicting a Selkie legend |
This last ballad is called “Fair Annie.” The synopsis is that a lord tells Annie that he will be travelling abroad and returning with his bride, so she should prepare herself and look like a fair maiden to impress his young wife. Annie replies that how can she look like a maiden when she has born him seven sons? After much ado, and a fair amount of melodrama, it is revealed that the new lady of the house is Annie’s younger sister who was only a child when Annie ran off with the, then, dashing young knight. The young woman, it turns out, brings wealth and many ships with her and promises to gift them to Annie and her oldest son so that she may return home to their family.
Fair Annie "It's a narrow, narrow make your bed, And learn to lie your lane; For I'm ga'n oer the sea, Fair Annie, A braw bride to bring hame. Wi her I will get gowd and gear; Wi you I neer got nane. "But wha will bake my bridal bread, Or brew my bridal ale? And wha will welcome my brisk bride, That I bring oer the dale?" "It's I will bake your bridal bread, And brew your bridal ale, And I will welcome your brisk bride, That you bring oer the dale."  Medieval manuscript illumination "Come up, come up, my eldest son, And look oer yon sea-strand, And see your father's new-come bride, Before she come to land." "Come down, come down, my mother dear, Come frae the castle wa! I fear, if langer ye stand there, Ye'll let yoursell down fa." And she gaed down, and farther down, Her love's ship for to see, And the topmast and the mainmast Shone like the silver free. And she's gane down, and farther down, The bride's ship to behold, And the topmast and the mainmast They shone just like the gold. She's taen her seven sons in her hand, I wot she didna fail; She met Lord Thomas and his bride, As they came oer the dale.  Queen Guinevere’s Maying, by John Collier, 1900 "There came a knight out oer the sea, And steald my sister away; The shame scoup in his company, And land whereer he gae!" She hang ae napkin at the door, Another in the ha, And a' to wipe the trickling tears, Sae fast as they did fa. And aye she served the lang tables, With white bread and with wine, And aye she drank the wan water, To had her colour fine.  Ladies talking, from a medieval tapestry "Gin my seven sons were seven young hares, Running oer yon lilly lee, And I were a grew hound mysell, Soon worried they a' should be." And wae and sad Fair Annie sat And drearie was her sang, And ever, as she sobbd and grat, "Wae to the man that did the wrang!" "My gown is on," said the new-come bride, "My shoes are on my feet, And I will to Fair Annie's chamber, And see what gars her greet. "What ails ye, what ails ye, Fair Annie, That ye make sic a moan? Has your wine barrels cast the girds, Or is your white bread gone? "O wha was't was your father, Annie, Or wha was't was your mother? And had ye ony sister, Annie, Or had ye ony brother?"  |  Medieval manuscript illumination "But she that welcomes my brisk bride Maun gang like maiden fair; She maun lace on her robe sae jimp, And braid her yellow hair." "But how can I gang maiden-like, When maiden I am nane? Have I not born seven sons to thee, And am with child again?" She's taen her young son in her arms, Another in her hand, And she's up to the highest tower, To see him come to land.  Procession of a lord and lady returning to their castle "You're welcome to your house, Lord Thomas, You're welcome to your land; You're welcome with your fair ladye, That you lead by the hand. "You're welcome to your ha's, ladye, You're welcome to your bowers; You're welcome to your hame, ladye, For a' that's here is yours." "I thank thee, Annie; I thank thee, Annie, Sae dearly as I thank thee; You're the likest to my sister Annie That ever I did see.  La Belle Dame Sans Merci by Sir Frank Dicksee And he's taen down the silk napkin, Hung on a silver pin, And aye he wipes the tear trickling A' down her cheik and chin. And aye he turn'd him round about, And smil'd amang his men; Says, "Like ye best the old ladye, Or her that's new come hame?" When bells were rung, and mass was sung, And a' men bound to bed, Lord Thomas and his new-come bride To their chamber they were gaed. Annie made her bed a little forbye, To hear what they might say "And ever alas!" Fair Annie cried, "That I should see this day! "Gin my seven sons were seven young rats, Running on the castle wa, And I were a grey cat mysell, I soon would worry them a'.  "The Earl of Wemyss was my father, The Countess of Wemyss my mother; And a' the folk about the house To me were sister and brother. "If the Earl of Wemyss was your father, I wot sae was he mine; And it shall not be for lack o gowd That ye your love sall tine. "For I have seven ships o mine ain, A' loaded to the brim, And I will gie them a' to thee, Wi four to thine eldest son: But thanks to a' the powers in heaven That I gae maiden hame!"  |
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