No. 194: The Laird of Wairston
[There are no known US or Canadian versions of this ballad.]
CONTENTS:
1. Child's Narrative
2. Footnotes (Found at the end of Child's Narrative)
3. Brief (Kittredge)
4. Child's Ballad Text A-C
5. End-Notes
5. Additions and Corrections
ATTACHED PAGES (see left hand column):
1. Recordings & Info: 194. The Laird of Wairston
A. Roud 3876: The Laird of Wairston (14 listings)
2. Sheet Music: 194. The Laird of Wairston (including Bronson's music examples)
3. English and Other Versions (Including Child versions A-C with additional notes)]
Child's Narrative: 194. The Laird of Wariston
A. 'The Laird of Waristoun,' Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 109.
B. 'Laird of Wariestonn,' Kinloch Manuscripts, VII, 217; Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 49.
C. 'Death of Lord Warriston,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 56.
Birrell's Diary, under the date of July 2, 1600, has the following entry: "John Kinland [Kincaid] of Waristone murderit be hes awin wyff and servant-man, and the nurische being also upone the conspiracy. The said gentilwoman being apprehendit, scho was tane to the Girth Crosse upon the 5 day of Julii, and her heid struck fra her bodie at the Cannagait fit; quha diet verie patiently. Her nurische was brunt at the same tyme, at 4 houres in the morneing, the 5 of Julii." P. 49.
Both husband and wife belonged to houses of some note. The wife, Jean Livingston, was a daughter of John Livingston of Dunipace, "and related to many of the first families in Scotland."
Nothing seems to have been done to keep the murder from divulging. Warriston being only about a mile from Edinburgh, information very soon reached the authorities of justice, and those who were found in the house, the mistress, the nurse, and two female servants, were arrested. The crime was committed on Tuesday morning, not long after midnight. On Thursday such trial as there was took place, and it may have occupied three hours, probably less. At three o'clock on Saturday morning sentence was executed. This had been burning (i.e. after strangling), both for the principal and her accomplice, the nurse; but for the well-born woman, no doubt through the influence of her kindred, it was commuted to beheading. The servant-man who did the handiwork fled, but the penalty for undue devotion to his former master's daughter overtook him within four years. He was broken on a cart-wheel with a plough-coulter.
The judicial records in the case of Jean Livingston are lost, but the process of the murder and the provocation are known from a register of the trial of Robert Weir, the actual perpetrator, and partly also from Jean Livingston's own relation. Jean Livingston, having conceived a deadly hatred and malice against her husband, John Kincaid, u for the alleged biting of her in the arm and striking her divers times," sent word by her nurse, Janet Murdo, to Robert Weir, formerly servant to her father, to come to Wariston to speak with her concerning the murdering of him. The nurse, who, we may safely suppose, had been the witness of Kincaid's brutal behavior, was no unwilling agent. "She helped me too well in mine evil purpose," says her mistress; "for when I told her what I was minded to do, she consented to the doing of it, and ... when I sent her to seek the man who would do it, she said, I shall go and seek him, and if I get him not, I shall seek another; and if I get none, I shall do it myself." This the nurse confessed. The other two women knew nothing of the deed before it was done; "and that which they knew," says the mistress again, "they durst not tell for fear, for I had compelled them to dissemble." Robert Weir, having given consent, was put in a cellar, where he stayed till midnight, about which time he came up and went to Kincaid's chamber. Kincaid, who had waked with the "din," and was leaning over the side of his bed, was knocked to the floor by a blow in the neck, kicked in the belly, and then throttled. "As soon as that man gripped him and began his evil turn," says the wife, "so soon as my husband cried so fearfully, I leapt outover my bed and went to the hall, where I sat all the time till that unhappy man came to me and reported that mine husband was dead." She desired Weir, she says, to take her away with him, for she feared trial, albeit flesh and blood made her think that her father's interest at court would have saved her (this may have been an after-thought). But Weir refused, saying, You shall tarry still, and if this matter come not to light, you shall say he died in the gallery, and I shall return to my master's service. But if it be known, I shall fly and take the crime on me, and none dare pursue you.
A benevolent minister, who visited Jean Livingston in prison about ten o'clock on Thursday, the third day after the murder, found her "raging in a senseless fury, disdain fully taunting every word of grace that was spoken to her, impatiently tearing her hair, sometimes running up and down the house like one possessed, sometimes throwing her self on the bed and sprawling, refusing all comfort by word, and, when the book of God was brought to her, flinging it upon the walls, twice or thrice, most unreverently." His warnings of wrath to come and his exhortations to seek mercy through repentance were treated as "trittle, trattle," and she stubbornly refused to pray for herself, or to take part in his prayer, or to say so much as God help me. He told her that she was promising herself impunity, but within a few hours, when she should have the sentence of death pronounced against her, the pride of her heart would be broken. The trial and sentence followed hard upon this, and when the minister returned, some time in the afternoon, he found a visible and apparent grace beginning in her. He remained with her till after midnight, and when he left her, Jean Livingston could say that she felt in her heart a free remission of all her sins. This worthy man came to the prison again early the next morning, and found God's grace wonderfully augmented in her. She was full of joy and courage. Those that stood about her said they never saw her so amiable or well-favored. The glory of God was shining both without and within her.
To follow no further this astounding chapter in psychology, this bairn of twenty-one years,[1] with whom the Lord began to work in mercy upon Thursday at two hours in the afternoon, gave up her soul to him in peace upon the aturday following at three hours in the morning. "When she came to the scaffold and was carried up upon it, she looked up to the Maiden with two longsome looks," but her serenity was not disturbed. She made a confession at each of the four corners of the scaffold, took "good night" cheerfully of all her friends, kissing them, and then, "as a constant saint of God, humbled herself on her knees and offered her neck to the axe."[2]
It may be gathered from Weir's indictment that it was the ill treatment which she had received from her husband that incited the wife to the murder. Two of the ballads, A 4, B 2, make the same representation. An epitaph on Jean Livingston gives us to understand that both parties were very young, and were married aganst their will (invita invito subjuncta puella puello): whence perpetual disagreements (nihil in thalamo nisi rixæ, jurgia, lites).
In A, B, the strangling is done by the nurse and her lady, Man's Enemy personally knotting the tether in A; in C it is done by the nurse alone. In B 8 the great Dunipace, in his anger at hearing what his daughter has done, cries out for her to be put in a barrel of pikes[3] and rolled down some lea. In C the father, mother, and brother come to see Jean, and would fain give everything to borrow her. This is a by much too flattering account of the behavior of her relatives, who were principally anxious to have her got out of the world with as little éclat as might be. None of them came near her in prison, though Wariston's brother did. C makes Wariston's mortal offence not the throwing a plate at her face (A) or striking her on the mouth (B), but the taxing her with a bairn by another man. The unfriendly relations of the pair must have been notorious. In the prison the wife "purged herself very sincerely from many scandalous things she had been bruited with. Not that she would excuse herself that she was a sinner in the highest rank, but that she might clear herself from these false reports that her house was charged with:" Memorial, p. xxvil.
Footnotes:
1. So the Memorial referred to in the next note, p. vi. Sharpe, in his preface, p. iv, says nineteen. B 9 is of course quite wrong aa to the duration of her married life.
2. A Memorial of the Conversion of Jean Livingston, Lady Waristonn, etc., printed from the manuscript by C. K. Sharpe, Edinburgh, 1827. An Epitaphium Janetoe Livingtonne is subjoined. The record of Weir's trial is giyen in the preface: see also Pitcairn's Criminal Trials, II, 445 ff. The Memorial is powerfully interesting, but, in Sharpe's words, would have been a mischievous present to the world, whatever one may think of the change of heart in this "dear mint of God," as she is therein repeatedly called. It may be noted that Jean Livingston, when it was supposed her last hour had come, called for a drink and drank to all her friends. Memorial, p. xiu: cf. "Mary Hamilton."
3. Rolling in a spiked barrel is well known aa a popular form of punishment. For some examples later than Regulus, see Grundtvig, II, 174, No 58; Grundtvig, II, 547, No 101, A-D, Prior, I, 349, Afzelius, No 3 (two copies), Wolff, Halle der Völker, II, 161; Grundtvig, III, 700, No 178, A-D, Prior, II, 160, Arwidsson, II, 62, No 80, and Grundtvig, ib. p. 698; Hoffmann, Niederlandische Volkslieder, 1856, p. 19, No 3, Le Jeune, p. 87, No 3, Prior, II, 238; Pidal, Asturian Romances, p. 163, No 36; Grimms, K. u. H. märchen, Nos 13, 89, 135; Asbjørnsen og Moe, p. 464. Sharpe, in his preface to the Memorial, p. v, gives B 8 in this form, "partly from tradition:"
Up spak the laird o Dunypace,
Sat at the king's right knee;
4 Gar nail her in a tar-barrel
And hurl her in the sea.'
Brief Description by George Lyman Kittredge
John Kincaid of Wariston was murdered in 1600 by Robert Weir, at the instigation of Kincaid's wife, Jean Livingston, who was incensed by his brutal treatment of her. Jean Livingston's nurse, Janet Murdo, was an agent in the affair, summoning Weir, who had been a servant of the wife's father. All three were executed. Both Kincaid and his wife belonged to houses of some note, and the case attracted much attention.
Child's Ballad Texts
'The Laird of Waristoun'- Version A; Child 194 The Laird of Wariston
Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 109, as taken down by Sir Walter Scott from the recitation of his mother.
1 Down by yon garden green
Sae merrily as she gaes;
She has twa weel-made feet,
And she trips upon her taes.
2 She has twa weel-made feet,
Far better is her hand;
She's as jimp in the middle
As ony willow-wand.
3 'Gif ye will do my bidding,
At my bidding for to be,
It's I will make you lady
Of a' the lands you see.'
* * * * *
4 He spak a word in jest;
Her answer wasna good;
He threw a plate at her face,
Made it a' gush out o blood.
5 She wasna frae her chamber
A step but barely three,
When up and at her richt hand
There stood Man's Enemy.
6 'Gif ye will do my bidding,
At my bidding for to be,
I'll learn you a wile
Avenged for to be.'
7 The Foul Thief knotted the tether,
She lifted his head on hie,
The nourice drew the knot
That gard lord Waristoun die.
8 Then word is gane to Leith,
Also to Edinburgh town,
That the lady had killd the laird,
The laird o Waristoun.
* * * * *
9 'Tak aff, tak aff my hood,
But lat my petticoat be;
Put my mantle oer my head,
For the fire I downa see.
10 'Now, a' ye gentle maids,
Tak warning now by me,
And never marry ane
But wha pleases your ee.
11 'For he married me for love,
But I married him for fee;
And sae brak out the feud
That gard my dearie die.'
-----------
'Laird of Wariestonn'- Version B; Child 194 The Laird of Wariston
Kinloch Manuscripts, VII, 217; from the recitation of Jenny Watson.
1 It was at dinner as they sat,
And whan they drank the wine,
How happy war the laird and lady
Of bonnie Wariston!
2 The lady spak but ae word,
The matter to conclude;
The laird strak her on the mouth,
Till she spat out o blude.
3 She did not know the way
Her mind to satisfy,
Till evil cam in to [her] head
All by the Enemy.
4 'At evening when ye sit,
And whan ye drink the wine,
See that ye fill the glass weill up
To the laird o Wariston.'
5 So at table whan they sat,
And whan they drank the wine,
She made the glass aft gae round
To the laird o Wariston.
6 The nurice she knet the knot,
And O she knet it sicker!
The lady did gie it a twig,
Till it began to wicker.
7 But word's gane doun to Leith,
And up to Embro toun,
That the lady she has slain the laird,
The laird o Waristoun.
8 Word has gane to her father, the grit Dunipace,
And an angry man was he;
Cries, Gar mak a barrel o pikes,
And row her down some lea!
9 She said, Wae be to ye, Wariston,
I wish ye may sink for sin!
For I have been your wife
These nine years, running ten;
And I never loved ye sae well
As now whan ye're lying slain.
10 'But tak aff this gowd brocade,
And let my petticoat stay,
And tie a handkerchief round my face,
That the people may not see.'
----------
'Death of Lord Warriston'- Version C; Child 194 The Laird of Wariston
Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 56.
1 'My mother was an ill woman,
In fifteen years she marrid me;
I hadna wit to guide a man,
Alas! ill counsel guided me.
2 'O Warriston, O Warriston,
I wish that ye may sink for sin!
I was but bare fifteen years auld,
Whan first I enterd your yates within.
3 'I hadna been a month married,
Till my gude lord went to the sea;
I bare a bairn ere he came hame,
And set it on the nourice knee.
4 'But it fell ance upon a day,
That my gude lord returnd from sea;
Then I did dress in the best array,
As blythe as ony bird on tree.
5 'I took my young son in my arms,
Likewise my nourice me forebye,
And I went down to yon shore-side,
My gude lord's vessel I might spy.
6 'My lord he stood upon the deck,
I wyte he haild me courteouslie:
Ye are thrice welcome, my lady gay,
Whae's aught that bairn on your knee?'
7 She turnd her right and round about,
Says, 'Why take ye sic dreads o me?
Alas! I was too young married,
To love another man but thee.'
8 'Now hold your tongue, my lady gay,
Nae mair falsehoods ye'll tell to me;
This bonny bairn is not mine,
You've loved another while I was on sea.'
9 In discontent then hame she went,
And aye the tear did blin her ee;
Says, Of this wretch I'll be revenged
For these harsh words he's said to me.
10 She's counselld wi her father's steward
What way she coud revenged be;
Bad was the counsel then he gave,
It was to gar her gude lord dee.
11 The nourice took the deed in hand,
I wat she was well paid her fee;
She kiest the knot, and the loop she ran,
Which soon did gar this young lord dee.
12 His brtother lay in a room hard by,
Alas! that night he slept too soun;
But then he wakend wi a cry,
'I fear my brother's putten down.
13 'O get me coal and candle light,
And get me some gude companie;'
But before the light was brought,
Warriston he was gart dee.
14 They've taen the lady and fause nourice,
In prison strong they hae them boun;
The nourice she was hard o heart,
But the bonny lady fell in swoon.
15 In it came her brother dear,
And aye a sorry man was he:
'I woud gie a' the lands I heir,
O bonny Jean, to borrow thee.'
16 'O borrow me, brother, borrow me?
O borrowd shall I never be;
For I gart kill my ain gude lord,
And life is nae pleasure to me.'
17 In it came her mother dear,
I wyte a sorry woman was she:
'I woud gie my white monie and gowd,
O bonny Jean, to borrow thee.'
18 'Borrow me, mother, borrow me?
O borrowd shall I never be;
For I gart kill my ain gude lord,
And life's now nae pleasure to me.'
19 Then in ti came her father dear,
I wyte a sorry man was he;
Says, 'Ohon, alas! my bonny Jean,
If I had you at hame wi me!
20 Seven daughters I hae left at hame,
As fair women as fair can be;
But I woud gie them ane by ane,
O bonny Jean, to borrow thee.'
21 'O borrow me, father, borrow me?
O borrowd shall I never be;
I that is worthy o the death,
It is but right that I shoud dee.'
22 Then out is speaks the king himsell,
And aye as he steps in the fleer;
Says, 'I grant you your life, lady,
Because you are of tender year.'
23 'A boon, a boon, my liege the king,
The boon I ask, ye'll grant to me;'
'Ask on, ask on, my bonny Jean,
Whateer ye ask it's granted be.'
24 'Cause take me out at night, at night,
Lat not the sun upon me shine,
And take me to yon heading-hill,
Strike aff this dowie head o mine.
25 'Ye'll take me out at night, at night,
When there are nane to gaze and see,
And hae me to yon heading-hill,
And ye'll gar head me speedilie.'
26 They've taen her out at nine at night,
Loot not the sun upon her shine,
And had her to yon heading-hill,
And headed her baith neat and fine.
27 Then out it speaks the king himsell,
I wyte a sorry man was he:
'I've travelld east, I've travelld west,
And sailed far beyond the sea,
But I never saw a woman's face
I was sae sorry to see dee.
28 'But Warriston was sair to blame,
For slighting o his lady so;
He had the wyte o his ain death,
And bonny lady's overthrow.'
End-Notes
B. 4. The Manuscript indicates that this is the nurse's speech.
51. whan struck out, as written over.
8. has struck out, 's substituted.
102. stay struck out, be substituted.
108. Originally handkerchief; hand struck out.
Kinloch has made several changes in printing:
71. has gane.
83. Fy! gar.
84. some brae.
93. gud wife.
He gives as in 51; be in 102; handkerchief in 103.
C. 64. Whase. Perhaps, Wha's rather than Whae's.
Additions and Corrections
To be Corrected in the Print.
28 a. Title of 194 B, Laird o Waristoun, in the Manuscript copy; Laird of Wariestoun, in the printed.
To be Corrected in the Print.
33 a, last line but one. Read 103.