213A. Sir James the Ross
[Child gives no ballad text of Sir James the Ross (also titled Sir James the Rose) because he considered it to be composed by Michael Bruce. Below is an excerpt of his narrative found in 213. Sir James the Rose. Alexander Keith from Greig's Last Leaves and others (Barry) consider Bruce's ballad to be derived also from "stall copies, broadsides, or other prints of the second half of the eighteenth century." There are two distinct versions, the first was covered by Child, while the second- 213A. Sir James the Ross- is the more literary "Bruce" variant which has become more popular. Below I've provided the text to Bruce's original version published in 1856 (it was published in 1774 in The Annual Register, or, A view of the history, politics, and ..., Volume 17 edited by Edmund Burke) and also his version published shortly after his death but edited by Logan (as it appeared in the 'Weekly Magazine or Edinburgh Amusement,' vol. ix. Sept. 20, 1770, pp. 371-373.)
Another variant of the "Bruce" ballad, titled 'Elfrida and Sir James of Perth,' published in Caw's Poetical Museum, 1784, p. 290 was considered a "stark plagiarism" by Child but was probably another version based on a stall ballad, just as Keith thought the "Bruce" version was.
According to Coffin: "Alexander Keith (editor) in Greig's Last Leaves of Traditional Ballads, points out that both the Ross (not in Child's collection) and Rose (which Child printed) ballads are derived from eighteenth century broadsides and stall copies and that Michael Bruce is mistakenly considered the composer of the former.
The Child Sir James the Rose ballad is not in America. The American texts are highly sophisticated and based on Sir James the Ross, a song Child, IV, 156 thought to have been composed by Michael Bruce."
The US and Canadian versions, some titled Sir James the Rose, will be of the ballad Child titled after Michael Bruce's poem, Sir James the Ross.
I've listed Sir James the Ross as an appendix: 213A. The US and Canadian versions, some titled Sir James the Rose, will be found under here in Appendix 213.
The English and Scottish versions suffer from the same errant titles. For example the Glenbuchat version, titled Sir James the Ross, matches Child's in all but two stanzas (the sixteenth and the last), and has more Scots diction than the original broadside.
R. Matteson 2012]
CONTENTS:
1. Child's Narrative (from 213. Sir James the Rose)
2. Footnote (One from 213. Sir James the Rose)
3. Brief by Kittredge (from 213. Sir James the Rose)
4. Brief by Matteson
5. Bruce's unedited text
6. Bruce's text edited by Logan
7. Alexander Keith's notes
8. Coffin's notes
9. Gilchrist's notes.
ATTACHED PAGES (see left hand column):
1. Recordings & Info: 213A. Sir James the Ross
A. Roud No. 2274: Sir James the Rose/ Sir James the Rose (89 Listings)
2. Sheet Music: 213A. Sir James the Ross (I don't have Bronson's music examples and texts)
3. US & Canadian Versions (based on the related ballad Sir James the Ross, see Appendix 213)
4. English and Other Versions (Including Michael Bruce's version )]
Child's Narrative: (Excerpt from 213. Sir James the Rose)
'Sir James the Ross, A Historical Ballad' (sometimes called 'The Buchanshire Tragedy'), was composed by the youthful Michael Bruce († 1767) upon the story of the popular ballad, and has perhaps enjoyed more favor with "the general" than the original. [1] 'Elfrida and Sir James of Perth,' Caw's Poetical Museum, 1784, p. 290 (probably taken, as most of the pieces are by the collector said to be, from some periodical publication), looks more like an imitation of Bruce's ballad than of its prototype. It is in fact a stark plagiarism.
Footnotes:
1. 'Sir James the Ross' was first printed in The Weekly Magazine, or, Edinburgh Amusement, IX, 371, in 1770 (Grosart, Works of Michael Bruce, p. 257, the ballad at p. 197), and in the same year in "Poems on Several Occasions, by Michael Bruce" (p. 30), with differences, which are attributed to Logan, the editor.
Kittredge's Brief
In the 1904 edition George Lyman Kittredge says this about 'Sir James the Rose' and 'Sir James the Ross':
There are some resemblances between 'Sir James the Rose' and No. 212. 'Sir James the Ross,' composed by Michael Bruce (d. 1767) upon the story of the present ballad, has perhaps enjoyed more favor than the original.
Matteson's Brief
Child give no ballad text of Sir James the Ross (also titled Sir James the Rose) because he considered it to be composed by Michael Bruce. Above is an excerpt of his narrative found in 213. Sir James the Rose. Alexander Keith from Greig's Last Leaves (see his comments below) and others (Barry) consider Bruce's ballad to be derived also from "stall copies, broadsides, or other prints of the second half of the eighteenth century." There are two distinct versions, the first was covered by Child, while the second- 213A. Sir James the Ross- is the "Bruce" variant which has become more popular. Another variant of the Bruce" ballad, titled 'Elfrida and Sir James of Perth,' published in Caw's Poetical Museum, 1784, p. 290 was considered a "stark plagiarism" by Child but was probably another version based on a stall ballad, just as Keith thought the "Bruce" version was. Bruce's early version was edited and published by Logan in 1770. Here is Bruce's unedited text published in The Works By Michael Bruce; edited by Alexander Balloch Grosart in 1865:
SIR JAMES THE ROSS
AN ANCIENT HISTORICAL BALLAD
Of all the Scottish northern chiefs,
Of his high warlike name,
The bravest was Sir James the Ross,
A knight of meikle fame.
His growth was as the tufted fir
That crowns the mountain's brow,
And waving o'er his shoulders broad
His locks of yellow flew.
The chieftan of the brave clan Ross,
A firm undaunted band;
Five hundred warriors drew the sword
Beneath his high command.
In bloody fight thrice had he stood
Against the English keen,
Ere two-and-twenty op'ning springs
This blooming youth had seen.
The fair Matilda dear he lov'd,
A maid of beauty rair,
Even Marg'ret on the Scottish throne
Was never half so fair.
Lang had he woo'd, lang she refus'd,
With seeming scorn and pride;
Yet aft her eyes confess'd the love
Her fearful words deny'd.
At last she bless'd his well-try'd faith,
Allow'd his tender claim;
She vow'd to him her virgin heart,
And own'd an equal flame.
Her father, Buchan's cruel lord,
Their passion disapprov'd,
And bade her wed Sir John the Graham,
And leave the youth she lov'd.
Ae night they met as they were wont,
Deep in a shady wood,
Where on the bank beside the burn,
A blooming saugh-tree stood.
Conceal'd among the underwood
The crafty Donald lay,
The brother of Sir John the Graham,
To hear what they would say.
When thus the maid began:—My sire
Your passion disapproves,
And bids me wed Sir John the Graham,
So here must end our loves!
My father's will must be obey'd,
Nought boots me to withstand;
Some fairer maid in beauty's bloom
Shall bless thee with her hand.
Matilda soon shall be forgot,
And from thy mind defac'd;
But may that happiness be thine
Which I can never taste.
What do I hear? Is this thy vow?
Sir James the Ross reply'd,
And will Matilda wed the Graham,
Tho' sworn to be my bride!
His sword shall sooner pierce my heart
Than reave me of thy charms!
Then clasp'd her to his beating breast,
Fast lock'd within her arms.
I spake to try thy love, she said,
I'll ne'er wed man but thee;
The grave shall be my bridal bed,
'Ere Graham my husband be.
Take then, dear youth, this faithful kiss
In witness of my troth,
And every plague become my lot,
That day I break my oath.
They parted thus; the sun was set,
Up hasty Donald flies,
And turn thee, turn thee, beardless youth,
He loud insulting cries.
Soon turn'd about the fearless chief,
And soon his sword he drew,
For Donald's blade before his breast
Had pierc'd his tartans through.
This for my brother's slighted love,
His wrongs sit on my arm:
Three paces back the youth retir'd,
And sav'd himself frae harm.
Returning swift, his hand he rear'd
Frae Donald's head above,
And thro' the brains and crashing bones
His sharp edg'd weapon drove.
He stagg'ring reel'd, then tumbled down,
A lump of breathless clay;
So fall my foes! qoth valiant Ross,
And stately strode away.
Thro' the green wood he quickly hy'd
Unto Lord Buchan's hall;
And at Matilda's window stood,
And thus began to call:
Art thou asleep, Matilda dear!
Awake, my love, awake;
Thy luckless lover calls on thee,
A long farewel to take.
For I have slain fierce Donald Graham,
His blood is on my sword;
And distant are my faithful men,
Nor can assist their lord.
To Skye I'll now direct my way,
Where my two brothers bide,
And raise the valiant of the Isles
To combat on my side.
O, do not so! the maid replies,
With me till morning stay,
For dark an dreary is the night,
And dangerous is the way:
All night I'll watch you in the park;
My faithful page I'll send
To run and raise the Ross's clan,
Their master to defend.
Beneath a bush he laid him down,
And wrapt him in his plaid,
While trembling for her lover's fate,
At distance stood the maid.
Swift ran the page o'er hill and dale,
Till in a lowly glen
He met the furious Sir John Graham,
With twenty of his men.
Where go'st thou, little page? he said;
So late who did thee send?
I go to raise the Ross's clan
Their master to defend.
For he has slain fierce Donald Graham,
His blood is on his sword,
And far, far distant are his men
That should assist their lord.
And has he slain my brother dear!
The furious Graham replies;
Dishonour blast my name! but he
By me 'ere morning dies!
Tell me, where is Sir James the Ross?
I will thee well reward.
He sleeps into Lord Buchan's park;
Matilda is his guard.
They spurr'd their steeds in furious mood,
And scour'd along the lea,
They reach'd Lord Buchan's lofty tow'rs
By dawning of the day.
Matilda stood without the gate,
To whom thus Graham did say;
Saw ye Sir James the Ross last night,
Or did he pass this way?
Last day at noon, Matilda said,
Sir James the Ross pass'd by,
He furious prick'd his sweaty steed,
And onward fast did hy.
By this he is at Edinburgh cross,
If horse and man hold good.—
Your page then ly'd, who said he was
Now sleeping in the wood.
She wrung her hands and tore her hair,
Brave Ross! thou art betray'd,
And ruin'd by those very means
From whence I hop'd thine aid.
By this the valiant knight awak'd,
The virgin's shriek he heard;
And up he rose and drew his sword,
When the fierce band appear'd.
Your sword last night my brother slew,
His blood yet dims its shine,
But 'ere the setting of the sun
Your blood shall reek on mine.
You word it well, the chief return'd,
But deeds approve the man;
Set by your men, and hand to hand
We'll try what valour can.
Oft boasting hides a coward's heart,[1]
My weighty sword you fear,
Which shone in front of Floden field,
When you kept in the rear.
With dauntless step he forward strode,
And dar'd him to the fight;
But Graham gave back and fear'd his arm,
For well he knew its might.
Four of his men, the bravest four,
Sunk down beneath his sword;
But still he scorn'd the poor revenge,
And sought their haughty lord.
Behind him basely came the Graham,
And pierc'd him in the side,
Out spouting came the purple tide,
And all his tartans dy'd.
But yet his sword quat not the grip,
Nor dropt he to the ground,
Till thro' his en'my's heart his steel
Had forc'd a mortal wound.
Graham like a tree with wind o'erthrown,
Fell breathless on the clay,
And down beside him sunk the Ross,
And faint and dying lay.
The sad Matilda saw him fall,
0 spare his life! she cried,
Lord Buchan's daughter begs his life,
Let her not be deny'd?
Her well known voice the hero heard,
He rais'd his half-clos'd eyes,
And fix'd them on the weeping maid,
And weakly thus replies:
In vain Matilda begs the life
By death's arrest deny'd;
My race is run—Adieu, my love!
Then clos'd his eyes and dy'd.
The sword yet warm, from his left side
With frantic hand she drew;
I come, Sir James the Ross, she cried,
I come to follow you.
She lean'd the hilt against the ground,
And bar'd her snowy breast;
Then fell upon her lover's face,
And sunk to endless rest(«).'
1 Audendo magnus tegitur timor.—Lucan.
Note (u)—P. 205. From: The Works By Michael Bruce; edited by Alexander Balloch Grosart, 1865.
Sir James the Ross.—I have given 'Sir James the Ross' as it appears in the ' Weekly Magazine or Edinburgh Amusement,' vol. ix. Sept. 20, 1770, pp. 371-373. Prefixed was the following short note:—
To the Publisher of the ' Weekly Magazine.'
Sir,—Some days ago I met with an old Scottish Ballad, of which the following is a copy; which, I dare say, you will be willing to preserve from oblivion, by giving it a place in your entertaining Amusement. There are few of your Readers, I am persuaded, but will be pleased to see at once such a specimen of ancient Scottish poetry and valour.
It is deemed proper to furnish here also the Ballad as Logan published it in the volume of 1770. A comparison will reveal alterations and insertions. In all likelihood these belong to Logan; and it is a marvel that on the strength of them he did not claim the whole as his, according to his wont. 'The Ballad of Sir James the Ross' was enclosed in a letter by Bruce to Mr. David Pearson, in which he excellently distinguishes between the Song and the Ballad.—G.
SIR JAMES THE ROSS. [1770- edited Logan]
AN HISTORICAL BALLAD.
Of all the Scottish northern Chiefs
Of high and mighty name,
The bravest was Sir James the Ross,
A knight of meikle fame.
His growth was like a youthful oak,
That crowns the mountain's brow;
And, waving o'er his shoulders broad,
His locks of yellow flew.
Wide were his fields, his herds were large,
And large his flocks of sheep,
And num'rous were his goats and deer
Upon the mountains steep.
The chieftain of the good Clan Ross,
A firm and warlike band:
Five hundred warriors drew the sword
Beneath his high command.
In bloody fight thrice had he stood
Against the English keen,
Ere two and twenty op'ning springs
The blooming youth had seen.
The fair Matilda dear he lov'd,
A maid of beauty rare;
Even Margret on the Scottish throne
Was never half so fair.
Long had he woo'd, long she refus'd
With seeming scorn and pride;
Yet oft her eyes confess'd the love
Her fearful words deny'd.
At length she bless'd his well-try'd love,
Allow'd his tender claim;
She vow'd to him her virgin-heart,
And own'd an equal flame.
Her brother, Buchan's cruel lord,
Their passion disapprov'd:
He bade her wed Sir John the Graeme,
And leave the youth she lov'd.
One night they met, as they were wont,
Deep in a shady wood;
Where on the bank, beside the burn,
A blooming saugh-tree stood.
Conceal'd among the underwood
The crafty Donald lay,
The brother of Sir John the Graeme,
To watch what they might say.
When thus the maid began: 'My Sire
Our passion disapproves;
He bids me wed Sir John the Graeme,
So here must end our loves.
'My father's will must he obey'd,
Nought boots me to withstand;
Some fairer maid in beauty's bloom
Shall bless thee with her hand.
'Soon will Matilda be forgot,
And from thy mind effac'd;
But may that happiness be thine,
Which I can never taste!'
'What do I hear? Is this thy vow?'
Sir James the Ross replied;
'And will Matilda wed the Graeme,
Tho' sworn to be my bride?
'His sword shall sooner pierce my heart,
Than reave me of thy charms'
And clasped her to his throbbing breast,
Fast lock'd within her arms.
'I spoke to try thy love,' she said,
'I'll near wed man but thee;
The grave shall be my bridal bed,
If Graeme my husband be.
'Take then, dear youth! this faithful kiss,
In witness of my troth;
And every plague become my lot,
That day I break my oath.'
They parted thus—the sun was set:
Up hasty Donald flies; And,
'Turn thee, turn thee, beardless youth!'
He loud insulting cries.
Soon turn'd about the fearless chief,
And soon his sword he drew;
For Donald's blade before his breast
Had pierc'd his tartans thro'.
'This for my brother's slighted love;
His wrongs sit on my arm.'—
Three paces back the youth retir'd,
And sav'd himself from harm.
Returning swift, his sword he rear'd
Fierce Donald's head above;
And thro' the brain and crashing bone
The furious weapon drove.
Life issued at the wound; he fell,
A lump of lifeless clay: "
'So fall my foes,' quoth valiant Ross,
And stately strode away.
Thro' the green wood in haste he pass'd
Unto Lord Buchan's hall,
Beneath Matilda's windows stood,
And thus on her did call:
'Art thou asleep, Matilda fair!
Awake, my love ! awake;
Behold thy lover waits without,
A long farewell to take.
'For I have slain fierce Donald Graeme,
His blood is on my sword;
And far, far distant are my men,
Nor can defend their lord.
'To Skye I will direct my flight,
Where my brave brothers bide,
And raise the Mighty of the Isles
To combat on my side.'
'O do not so,' the maid replied,
'With me till morning stay;
For dark and dreary is the night,
And dang'rous is the way.
'All night I'll watch thee in the park;
My faithful page I'll send,
In haste to raise the brave Clan Ross
Their master to defend.'
He laid him down beneath a bush,
And wrap'd him in his plaid;
While, trembling for her lover's fate,
At distance stood the maid.
Swift ran the page o'er hill and dale,
Till, in a lowly glen,
He met the furious Sir John Graeme
With twenty of his men,
'Where goest? thou little page!' he said,
'So late who did thee send?'
'I go to raise the brave Clan Ross,
Their master to defend.
'For he has slain fierce Donald Graeme,
His blood is on his sword;
And far, far distant are his men,
Nor can assist their lord.'
'And has he slain my brother dear?'
The furious chief replies:
'Dishonour blast my name, but he
'By me ere morning dies.
'Say, page! where is Sir James the Ross?
I will thee well reward.'
'He sleeps into Lord Buchan's park;
Matilda is his guard.'
They spurr'd their steeds, and furious flew,
Like lightning, o'er the lea:
They reach'd Lord Buchan's lofty tow'r
By dawning of the day.
Matilda stood without the gate
Upon a rising ground,
And watch'd each object in the dawn,
All ear to every sound.
'Where sleeps the Ross?' began the Graeme,
'Or has the felon fled?
This hand shall lay the wretch on earth,
By whom my brother bled.'
And now the valiant knight awoke,
The virgin shrieking heard:
Straight up he rose, and drew his sword,
When the fierce band appear'd.
'Your sword last night my brother slew,
His blood yet dims its shine;
And, ere the sun shall gild the morn,
Your blood shall reek on mine.'
'Your words are brave,' the chief return'd;
'But deeds approve the man.
Set by your men, and hand to hand
We'll try what valour can.'
With dauntless step he forward strode,
And dar'd him to the fight:
The Graeme gave back, and fear'd his arm,
For well he knew his might.
Four of his men, the bravest four,
Sunk down beneath his sword;
But still he scorn'd the poor revenge,
And sought their haughty lord.
Behind him basely came the Graeme,
And wounded in the side:
Out spouting came the purple stream,
And all his tartans dy'd.
But yet his hand not dropp'd the sword,
Nor sunk he to the ground,
Till thro' his en'my's heart his sword
Had forc'd a mortal wound.
Graeme, like a tree by winds overthrown,
Fell breathless on the clay;
And down beside him sunk the Ross,
And faint and dying lay.
Matilda saw, and fast she ran:
'O spare his life,' she cried;
Lord Buchan's daughter begs his life,
Let her not be denied.'
Her well-known voice the hero heard;
He rais'd his death-clos'd eyes;
He fix'd them on the weeping maid,
And weakly thus replies:
'In vain Matilda begs the life
By death's arrest deny'd;
My race is run—adieu, my love!'
Then clos'd his eyes, and dy'd.
The sword, yet warm from his left side,
With frantic hand she drew;
'I come, Sir James the Ross,' she cry'd,
I come to follow you.
The hilt she lean'd against the ground,
And bar'd her snowy breast,
Then fell upon her lover's face,
And sunk to endless rest.
Alexander Keith from Greig's Last Leaves of Traditional Ballads:
LXIV. Sir James the Rose (Child, 213):
There are two different versions of this ballad extant, one traditional, with its "scene" in Perthshire, the other literary and attributed to Michael Bruce, the Loch-Leven poet (1746-1767). Child deals fully with the former, but in Aberdeenshire and and the North-East the latter has, in great measure, ousted the traditional version, so that it is with the Bruce text we have to deal. All the texts of both versions are clearly derived from stall copies, broadsides, or other prints of the second half of the eighteenth century. The versions collected by Messrs. Greig and Duncan differ from one another very slightly, and show only a few verbal changes of the traditional kind from the known printed texts. Accordingly, we give here (as being more interesting) the earliest text we have seen — one which is never alluded to in the controversy over the authorship of the literary ballad — from One Hundred and Fifty Scots Songs, London, 1768.
Excerpt from The British Traditional Ballad in North America by Tristram Coffin 1950, from the section A Critical Biographical Study of the Traditional Ballads of North America
The Child Sir James the Rose ballad is not in America. The American texts are highly sophisticated and based on Sir James the Ross, a song Child, IV, 156 thought to have been composed by Michael Bruce. Barry, Brit Bids M?, 290 i, citing Alexander Keith (editor) in Greig's Last Leaves of Traditional Bids, points out that both the Ross (not in Child's collection) and Rose (which Child printed) ballads are derived from eighteenth century broadsides and stall copies and that Michael Bruce is mistakenly considered the composer of the former. He also points out on Keith's authority that the Ross version has ousted the Rose in Scotland and that his American copy of Ross is identical with the 1768 and oldest known Scottish (150 Scots Songs, London, 1768) text of the story. His version being that old and well established in oral tradition, Barry therefore rates the Ross texts as a primary, rather than a secondary, form of the story in America. Also see MacKenzie, Bids Sea Sgs N Sc, 48. MacKenzie's A version is particularly sophisticated. The Pound, American Speech, Nebraska version does not differ materially from the northern texts.
Excerpt from Ten Songs from Scotland and the Scottish Border
by Anne G. Gilchrist
Journal of the English Folk Dance and Song Society, Vol. 3, No. 1 (Dec., 1936), pp. 53-71
Sir James loves Matilda, whose father bids her wed Sir John the Graham. The lovers meet at their trysting-place, and Sir John's brother, Donald, craftily hides himself in the underwood" to overhear what they would say." Donald attacks Sir James with insulting words and stabs at him with his sword, crying- "This for my brother's slighted love- His wrongs sit on my arm!" (A curious phrase.) Evading him, Sir James cleaves Donald's head with his sword, and as he tumbles down,
"a lump of breathless clay,"
"So fall my foes," quoth valiant Ross,
And stately strode away.
Then the Graham clan is roused and the ballad ends in a double tragedy. For the whole ballad (twenty-seven double verses) see " Sir James the Rose," Last Leaves of Aberdeen Ballads, lxiv, p. I37.
There are two distinct forms of this ballad. The one selected by Child begins-
O heard ye of Sir James the Rose
The young heir of Buleighan?
For he has killed a gallant squire
An's friends are out to tak' him.
But Child rejected as too "literary" the one which became most popular in Scotland and most widely sung, which is here represented. It is rather curious that in the forty years since he died so many traditional copies of this rejected version, sung to their traditional tunes, have been noted. It has been attributed to the Scottish poet, Michael Bruce, amongst whose papers it was found, but it now seems possible that it was merely revised, after the fashion of the time, by him. The earliest printed text known of this supposed " Bruce " copy appeared in One Hundred and Fifty Scots Songs, London, 1768, the year after Bruce's death at the age of twenty-one. This collection contained several ballad texts, and Dr. Keith, who transcribes this copy in his Last Leaves of A berdeenshire Ballads, concludes that both the version preferred by Child and the "Bruce" form have been derived from stall copies, broadsides, and other prints of the second half of the eighteenth century. The copy found amongst Bruce's papers was further revised by John Logan, Bruce's untrustworthy friend, who unblushingly claimed the authorship of several poems now almost certainly known to be Bruce's.
The basis of each form of the ballad (of which Child's version is the most savage) is the slaying of Sir Donald Graeme by Sir James the Rose, the betrayal of the fugitive, and the revenge of the Graemes by killing the slayer of their clansman. In Child's text, taken from a stall copy of I780 in the Abbotsford library, Sir James' sweetheart, to whom he has fled for hiding, betrays him to his enemies who are hunting for him, and afterwards, stricken with remorse, disappears for ever from human ken. In the ballad which has ousted this version in Aberdeen and elsewhere, the treachery is transferred from Matilda to her faithless little page, who discloses Sir James's hiding place. After defending himself bravely he is slain, and Matilda draws out the sword still sticking in his side, falls on the point, and dies on his body.
This second version is a long ballad of about fifty verses, found almost complete, and not much corrupted, even after its emigration with Scots folk to Nova Scotia and Maine. See W. Roy Mackenzie's Ballads and Sea-Songs of Nova Scotia, (where a modal tune is also given for the ballad), and British Ballads from Maine (edited by Barry, Eckstorm, and Smyth).
In Child's text the scene is located in Perthshire, at Bulechan; in Aberdeen copies, on the banks of the Ugie above the Abbey of Deer, where the saugh-tree (willow) where the lovers met used still to be pointed out by the singers of the lovers' fate. The hero is called both James the Rose and James the Ross, and as there were distinct clans of both Rose and Ross in Scotland, the confusion increases, and it seems doubtful whether there is any historical foundation for the story, though it was printed as an "Ancient Historical Ballad"- the "Bruce" version- in the Weekly Magazine and Edinburgh Amusement, 1770.
It is certain that this version was widely known and sung in Aberdeenshire, and also in New Brunswick. Dr. Keith prints in Last Leaves six tunes and variants, and had obtained seven others-variants of his Tune I. In Johnson's Museum, vol. iii, p. 280, is a variant, set to " Hardycanute," and another tune is in R. A.
Smith's Scotish Minstrel, ii, 30. And none of all these tunes fits Child's version, which, as will be seen, is in a different metre, though Christie has a tune for it in his Traditional Ballad Airs. As for Christie's double tune, printed above, the probability is that it is a combination of two different airs, the first strain being one tune to the ballad and the second, another, according to his habit of " arranging " tunes in eight-line stanza form. - A. G. G.