No. 270: The Earl of Mar's Daughter
[There are no known US or Canadian traditional versions of this ballad.]
CONTENTS:
1. Child's Narrative
2. Footnotes (There are no footnotes for this ballad)
3. Brief (Kittredge)
4. Child's Ballad Text A
ATTACHED PAGES (see left hand column):
1. Recordings & Info: 270. The Earl of Mar's Daughter
A. Roud No. 3879: The Earl of Mar's Daughter (5 Listings)
2. Sheet Music: 270. The Earl of Mar's Daughter (Bronson gives one music examples and text; The sole traditional tune is found in Christie's Traditional Ballad Airs)
3. English and Other Versions (Including Child versions A)
Child's Narrative: 270. The Earl of Mar's Daughter
A. 'The Earl of Mar's Daughter,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 49; Motherwell's Manuscript p. 565.
The Earl of Mar's daughter spies a dove on a tower, and promises him a golden cage if he will come to her. The dove lights on her head, and she takes him into her bower. When night comes, she sees a youth standing by her side. The youth explains that his mother, a queen versed in magic, had transformed him into a dove that he might charm maids. He is a dove by day, a man at night, and will live and die with her. In the course of seven years seven sons are born, all of whom are successively committed to the care of the queen their grandmother. After the twenty-third year a lord comes to court the lady. She refuses him: she will live alone with her bird. Her father swears that he will kill this bird, and Cow-me-doo prudently takes refuge with his mother, who welcomes home her 'young son Florentine,' and calls for dancers and minstrels. Cow-me-doo Florentine will have none of that; the situation is too serious. The morrow the mother of his seven sons is to be wedded; instead of merry-making, he desires to have twenty stout men turned into storks, his seven sons into swans, and himself into a goshawk. This feat is beyond his mother's (quite limited) magic, but it is done by an old woman who has more skill. The birds fly to Earl Mar's castle, where the wedding is going on. The storks seize some of the noble guests, the swans bind the bride's best man to a tree, and in a twinkling the bride and her maidens are carried off by the birds. The Earl of Mar reconciles himself with his daughter.
There is a Scandinavian ballad which Grundtvig has treated as identical with this, but the two have little in common beyond the assumption of the bird-shape by the lover. They are, perhaps, on a par for barrenness and folly, but the former may claim some age and vogue, the Scottish ballad neither.
Danish. 'Ridderen i Fugleham,' Grundtvig, II, 226, No 68, A-C (C is translated by Prior, III, 206); 'Herr Jon som Fugl,' Kristensen, I, 161, No 59, X, 23, No 11, A, B. In Grundtvig's A (Manuscript of the sixteenth century), the son of the king of England wooes a maid, sending her rich presents. Her mother says he shall never have her daughter, and this message his envoys take back to him. He is angry, and has a bird's coat forged for him out of nine gold rings (but his behavior thereafter is altogether birdlike). He sits on the ridgepole of the maid's bower and sings. The maid exclaims, Christ grant thou wert mine! thou shouldst drink naught but wine, and sleep in my arms. I would send thee to England, as a gift to my love. She sits down on the ground; the bird flies into her bosom. She takes the bird into her bower; he throws off his bird-coat, and is recognized. The maid begs him to do her no shame. 'Not if you will go to England with me,' he answers, takes her up, and wings his way thither. There he marries her, and gives her a crown and a queen's name.
In Grundtvig B, the bird is a falcon. The maid will have no man that cannot fly. Master Hillebrand, son of the king of England, learns this fact, and has a bird's coat made for him, enters the room where man had never been before, sleeps under white linen, and in the morning is a knight so braw. (Here the story ends.)
In C, the maid will have no man that cannot fly, and Master Hillebrand orders a bird's coat to be made for him (what could be more mechanical!), flies into the maid's bower, and passes the night on the pole on which she hangs her clothes. In the morning he begins to sing, flies to the bed, and plays with the maid's hair. If you could shed your feathers, says the maid, I would have no other man. Keep your word, says the bird; give me your hand, and take my claw. She passes her word; he throws off his feathers, and stands before her a handsome man. By day, says the maid, he is to fly with the birds, by night to sleep in her bed. He perches so long on the clothes-pole that Ingerlille has a girl and a boy. When her father asks who is their father, she tells him the positive truth; she found them in a wood. When the bird comes back at night, she says that he must speak to her father; further concealment is impossible. Master Hillebrand asks the father to give him his daughter. The father is surprised that he should want a maid that has been beguiled; but if he will marry her she shall have a large dowry. The knight wants nothing but her.
Kristensen's copies do not differ materially. 11 A in his tenth volume (a very brief ballad) drops or lacks the manufacture of the bird-coat. Grundtvig's D-G drop the bird quite.
The ballad occurs in Swedish, but in the form of a mere abstract; in Arwidsson, II, 188, No 112, Manuscript of the sixteenth century. A maid will have no man but one that can fly. A swain has wings made from five gold rings; he flies over the rose-wood, over the sea, sits on a lily-spray and sings, flies till he sleeps in the maid's bosom.
A Färöe copy is noted by Grundtvig as in the possession of Hammershaimb, resembling his B, but about twice as long.
The lover in bird-shape is a very familiar trait in fiction, particularly in popular tales.
In Marie de France's Lai d'Yonec, a lover comes in at his mistress's window in the form of a hawk; in 'Der Jungherr und der treue Heinrich,' von der Hagen, Gesammtabenteuer, No 64, III, 197, Manuscript of 1444, as a bird (by virtue of a stone of which he has possessed himself).[1] In Hahn, No 102, II, 130 (Albanian), a dove flies in at a princess's window, and is changed to man's shape by dipping in a dish of milk; Hahn, No 7, I, 97 = Pio, No 5, dove (through a hole in the ceiling, dips in a basin of water); Δελτίον τῆς ἱστορικῆς καὶ ἐθνολογικῆς ἑταιρίας τῆς Ἑλλάδος, I, 337, golden eagle (through a window, in rose water); Schneller, No 21, p. 49, dove (dips in a basin of water); Coelho, Contos pop. portuguezes, No 27, p. 65, bird (dips in a basin of water); Braga, Contos tradicionães, No 31, I, 68, bird (dips in a basin of water); Pitrè, Fiabe, etc., No 18, I, 163, green bird (pan of milk, then pan of water); Bernoni, Fiabe, No 17, p. 87 (milk and water, milk, rose-water); Visentini, No 17, p. 95, dove; Gonzenbach, No 27, I, 167, green bird (through a hole in the wall); Nicolovius, p. 34, Asbjørnsen, Norske Folkeeventyr, Ny Samling, 1871, No 10, p. 35 = Juletræet, 1851, p. 52, falcon; Grundtvig, Danske Folkeæventyr, No 14, p. 167, Madsen, Folkeminder, p. 19 ('The Green Knight'), bird; Berntsen, Folke-Æventyr, No 13, II, 86, bird; Comtesse d'Aulnoy, 'L'Oiseau bleu,' Cabinet des Fées, II, 67, king turned into bird for seven years.[2]
Translated by Gerhard, p. 44; Knortz, Lieder u. Romanzen Alt-Englands, p. 207, No 62.
Footnotes:
1. The 'Vogelritter' mentioned by Prior, III, 207, is this same story. See Mone, Uebersicht der niederländischen Volksliteratur, p. 90, No 59.
2. Most of the above are cited by R. Köhler, notes in Warnke's ed. of Marie's Lais, p. LXXXVIII f. For the dipping in water, etc., see Tam Lin, I, 338.
Brief Description by George Lyman Kittredge
The lover in bird-shape is a very familiar trait in fiction, particularly in popular tales. So in Marie de France's Lai d'Yonec.and in the Scandinavian ballad 'Ridderen i Fugleham' (Grundtvig, No, 68).
Child's Ballad Text
'The Earl of Mar's Daughter'- Version A; Child 270 The Earl of Mar's Daughter
'The Earl of Mar's Daughter,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 49; Motherwell's Manuscript p. 565.
1 It was intill a pleasant time,
Upon a simmer's day,
The noble Earl of Mar's daughter
Went forth to sport and play.
2 As thus she did amuse hersell,
Below a green aik tree,
There she saw a sprightly doo
Set on a tower sae hie.
3 'O Cow-me-doo, my love sae true,
If ye'll come down to me,
Ye'se hae a cage o guid red gowd
Instead o simple tree:
4 'I'll put gowd hingers roun your cage,
And siller roun your wa;
I'll gar ye shine as fair a bird
As ony o them a'.'
5 But she hadnae these words well spoke,
Nor yet these words well said,
Till Cow-me-doo flew frae the tower
And lighted on her head.
6 Then she has brought this pretty bird
Hame to her bowers and ha,
And made him shine as fair a bird
As ony o them a'.
7 When day was gane, and night was come,
About the evening tide,
This lady spied a sprightly youth
Stand straight up by her side.
8 'From whence came ye, young man?' she said;
' That does surprise me sair;
My door was bolted right secure,
What way hae ye come here?'
9 'O had your tongue, ye lady fair,
Lat a' your folly be;
Mind ye not on your turtle-doo
Last day ye brought wi thee?'
10 'O tell me mair, young man,' she said,
'This does surprise me now;
What country hae ye come frae?
What pedigree are you?'
11 'My mither lives on foreign isles,
She has nae mair but me;
She is a queen o wealth and state,
And birth and high degree.
12 'Likewise well skilld in magic spells,
As ye may plainly see,
And she transformd me to yon shape,
To charm such maids as thee.
13 'I am a doo the live-lang day,
A sprightly youth at night;
This aye gars me appear mair fair
In a fair maiden's sight,
14 'And it was but this verra day
That I came ower the sea;
Tour lovely face did me enchant;
I'll live and dee wi thee.'
15 'O Cow-me-doo, my luve sae true,
Nae mair frae me ye'se gae;'
'That's never my intent, my luve,
As ye said, it shall be sae.'
16 'Cow-me-doo, my luve sae true,
It's time to gae to bed;'
'Wi a' my heart, my dear marrow,
It's be as ye hae said.'
17 Then he has staid in bower wi her
For sax lang years and ane,
Till sax young sons to him she bare,
And the seventh she's brought hame.
18 But aye as ever a child was born
He carried them away,
And brought them to his mither's care,
As fast as he coud fly.
19 Thus he has staid in bower wi her
For twenty years and three;
There came a lord o high renown
To court this fair ladle.
20 But still his proffer she refused,
And a' his presents too;
Says, I'm content to live alane
Wi my bird, Cow-me-doo.
21 Her father sware a solemn oath
Amang the nobles all,
'The morn, or ere I eat or drink,
This bird I will gar kill.'
22 The bird was sitting in his cage,
And heard what they did say;
And when he found they were dismist,
Says, Wae's me for this day!
23 'Before that I do langer stay,
And thus to be forlorn,
1 11 gang unto my mither's bower,
Where I was bred and born.'
24 Then Cow-me-doo took flight and flew
Beyond the raging sea,
And lighted near his mither's castle,
On a tower o gowd sae hie.
25 As his mither was wauking out,
To see what she coud see,
And there she saw her little son,
Set on the tower sae hie.
26 'Get dancers here to dance,' she said,
'And minstrells for to play;
For here's my young son, Florentine,
Come here wi me to stay.'
27 'Get nae dancers to dance, mither,
Nor minstrells for to play,
For the mither o my seven sons,
The morn's her wedding-day.'
28 'O tell me, tell me, Florentine,
Tell me, and tell me true,
Tell me this day without a flaw,
What I will do for you.'
29 'Instead of dancers to dance, mither,
Or minstrells for to play,
Turn four-and-twenty wall-wight men
Like storks in feathers gray;
30 'My seven sons in seven swans,
Aboon their heads to flee;
And I mysell a gay gos-hawk,
A bird o high degree.'
31 Then sichin said the queen hersell,
'That thing's too high for me;'
But she applied to an auld woman,
Who had mair skill than she.
32 Instead o dancers to dance a dance,
Or minstrells for to play,
Four-and-twenty wall-wight men
Turnd birds o feathers gray;
33 Her seven sons in seven swans,
Aboon their heads to flee;
And he himsell a gay gos-hawk,
A bird o high degree.
34 This flock o birds took flight and flew
Beyond the raging sea,
And landed near the Earl Mar's castle,
Took shelter in every tree.
35 They were a flock o pretty birds,
Right comely to be seen;
The people viewd them wi surprise,
As they dancd on the green.
36 These birds ascended frae the tree
And lighted on the ha,
And at the last wi force did flee
Amang the nobles a'.
37 The storks there seized some o the men,
They coud neither fight nor flee;
The swans they bound the bride's best man
Below a green aik tree.
38 They lighted next on maidens fair,
Then on the bride's own head,
And wi the twinkling o an ee
The bride and them were fled.
39 There's ancient men at weddings been
For sixty years or more,
But sic a curious wedding-day
They never saw before.
40 For naething coud the companie do,
Nor naething coud they say
But they saw a flock o pretty birds
That took their bride away.
41 When that Earl Mar he came to know
Where his dochter did stay.
He signd a bond o unity,
And visits now they pay.