No. 49: The Twa Brothers
[This ballad is about fratricide (from the Latin words frater "brother" and cida "killer"). The primordial example is found in the Book of Genesis, in a conflict between the two sons of Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel. Cain, the first born murdered his younger brother Abel. The motive is assumed to be jealousy and anger. Another example, found in mythology, are the sons of Oedipus who murder each other over their inheritance.
In the US and Canadian version of Twa brothers, the older brother (usually William) challenges the younger brother (usually John) to a contest ("throwing the ball," "wrestling" and "rolling of stones" as in the Highland Games)- to prove who is superior or the dominant brother. When the younger brother says he is unable to compete because he is too small, they wrestle anyway and the older brother stabs the younger brother with his penknife, mortally wounding him. The younger brother pleads with his brother to tear apart his shirt to stop the bleeding. The older brother tears it "from gore to gore" (side to side) and presses it against the wound but the younger one bleeds "all the more." As he is dying, he wants to spare his parents the loss of a child, so he tells his brother: When my father comes to look for me tell him in in some lonely Greenwood; A-teaching the hounds to run. Then he tells him: When my mother comes to look for me tell her I'm studying at school. But when he talks to his sweetheart: When my sweetheart comes to look for me tell her in dying and have been buried. As in Child B and C (Motherwell c. 1825) his sweetheart (usually Susan/Susie) finds the location of his burial and sings, plays or weeps him from his grave where she asks for a final kiss. The murdered brother warns her that to kiss him would prove to be fatal for her and she sees him no more. The revenant ending stanzas resemble Sweet William's Ghost.
Newell gave Child two US versions which were published in English and Scottish Popular Ballads (Volume 2: Ballads 29-53; published June 1884 w/Additions and Corrections). The shorter ballad, a two stanza version dated 1850, is Child G b; the longer, undated by Child, is Child G a, which was later dated circa 1882 by Barry (BBM, 1929).
In my opinion the term, "The rolling of the stones," has evolved from Highland Games- "the putting of stones" or "the throwing of the stones." This is usually found in the introductory stanzas as found in Child B, collected by Motherwell from Widow McCormick, January 19, 1825; Westbrae, Paisley:
It's whether will ye play at the ba', brither,
Or else throw at the stone?
One version, titled "The Rolling of the Stones" has recently gained some currency in the US. It first appears in the US under that title in 1939 from Mrs. Mary E. Harmon of Cambridge, Massachusetts as published in Linscott's Folk Songs of Old New England. Subsequent versions came from Oscar Brand, Joe Hickerson, Young Tradition and Bok-Muir-Tricket.
In the Additions and Corrections (below) appears the following:
I
P. 435, V, 217. Communicated by Mr. J.K. Hudson of Manchester. Sung after a St. George play regularly acted on All Souls' Day at a village a few miles from Chester, and written down for Mr. Hudson by one of the performers, a lad of sixteen. The play was introduced by a song called Souling (similar to a Stephening, see I, 234), and followed by two songs, of which this is the last, the whole dramatic company singing.
This version more closely resembles Edward. It was included by Child under Twa Brothers because some versions of the Twa Brothers use the same or similar ending verses (Child D-G), such as "What will you say to your father?" I'm not including Version I here because it is better placed under Edward. See Gilchrist "Two Songs and a Dance" under English versions of Edward for a concurring opinion.
Here is the chorus of Seven Against Thebes of Aeschylus, which comments on the murder of Polyneices and Eteocles, the cursed sons of Oedipus:
When men die by a kinsman's hand,
When brother is murdered by brother,
And the dust of the earth drinks in
The crimson blood that blackens and dries,
Who then can provide cleansing?
Who can wash it away?
O house, whose guilty agonies,
the old vintage and the new, mingle together.
R. Matteson 2012, 2014]
CONTENTS:
1. Child's Narrative
2. Footnotes (added at the end of Child's Narration)
3. Brief (Kittredge)
4. Child's Ballad Texts A-H (A b. and H were added later. I is mistakenly a version of Edward added in his Additions and Corrections)
5. Endnotes
6. Additions and Corrections
ATTACHED PAGES (see left hand column):
1. Recordings & Info: The Twa Brothers
A. Roud Number 38: The Twa Brothers (209 Listings)
2. Sheet Music: The Twa Brothers (Bronson's texts and some music examples)
3. US & Canadian Versions
4. English and Other Versions (Including Child versions A-H with additional notes)]
Child's Narrative
A. Sharpe's Ballad Book, p. 56, No 19.
[A b. 'The Two Brothers,' Walks near Edinburgh, by Margaret Warrender, 1890, p. 60. Given to Lady John Scott many years ago by Campbell Riddell, brother of Sir James Riddell of Ardnamurchan. Added later]
B. 'The Cruel Brother,' Motherwell's Manuscript, p. 259. From the recitation of Mrs. McCormick.
C. 'The Twa Brithers,' Motherwell's Manuscript, p. 649. From the recitation of Mrs. Cunningham.
D. 'The Twa Brothers, or, The Wood o Warslin,' Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 59. From the recitation of Mrs. Arrott.
E. 'The Twa Brothers,' Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 60.
F. 'The Two Brothers,' Buchan's Manuscripts, I, 57; Motherwell's Manuscript, p. 662.
G. a. 'John and William,' taken down from the singing of little girls in South Boston.
b. From a child in New York. Both communicated by Mr. W.W. Newell.
[H. 'Perthshire Tredgey.' From a copy formerly in the possession of Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe. This fragment has some resemblances to F. "Copied 1823" is endorsed on the sheet (in the hand which made an insertion in st. 11) and crossed out. Added later]
All the Scottish versions were obtained within the first third of this century, and since then no others have been heard of. It is interesting to find the ballad still in the mouths of children in American cities, — in the mouths of the poorest, whose heritage these old things are.[1] The American versions, though greatly damaged, preserve the names John and William, which all the other copies have.
B and C are considerably corrupted. It need hardly be mentioned that the age of the boys in the first two stanzas of B does not suit the story. According to C 8, 15, the mother had cursed John, before he left home, with a wish that he might never return; and in C 9, John sends word to his true-love that he is in his grave for her dear sake alone. These points seem to have been taken from some copy of 'Willie and May Margaret,' or 'The Drowned Lovers.' The conclusion of both B and C belongs to 'Sweet William's Ghost.' C 18 may be corrected by B 10, though there is an absurd jumble of pipes and harp in the latter. The harp, in a deft hand, effects like wonders in many a ballad: e.g., 'Harpens Kraft,' Grundtvig, II, 65, No 40; even a pipe in C 14-16 of the same.
D, E, F, G supplement the story with more or less of the ballad of 'Edward:' see p. 168.
Jamieson inquires for this ballad in the Scots Magazine for October, 1803, p. 701, at which time he had only the first stanza and the first half of the third. He fills out the imperfect stanza nearly as in the copy which he afterwards printed:
But out an Willie's taen his knife,
And did his brother slay.
Of the five other Scottish versions, all except B make the deadly wound to be the result of accident, and this is, in Motherwell's view, a point essential. The other reading, he says, is at variance with the rest of the story, and "sweeps away the deep impression this simple ballad would otherwise have made upon the feelings: for it is almost unnecessary to mention that its touching interest is made to centre in the boundless sorrow and cureless remorse of him who had been the unintentional cause of his brother's death, and in the solicitude which that high-minded and generous spirit expresses, even in the last agonies of nature, for the safety and fortunes of the truly wretched and unhappy survivor," But the generosity of the dying man is plainly greater if his brother has killed him in an outburst of passion; and what is gained this way will fully offset the loss, if any, which comes from the fratricide having cause for "cureless remorse" as well as boundless sorrow. Motherwell's criticism, in fact, is not quite intelligible. (Minstrelsy, p. 61.)
The variation in the story is the same as that between the English 'Cruel Brother' and the German 'Graf Friedrich:' in the former the bride is killed by her offended brother; in the latter it is the bridegroom's sword slipping from its sheath that inflicts the mortal hurt.
Motherwell was inclined to believe, and Kirkpatrick Sharpe was convinced, that this ballad was founded upon an event that happened near Edinburgh as late as 1589, that of one of the Somervilles having been killed by his brother's pistol accidentally going off. Sharpe afterward found a case of a boy of thirteen killing a young brother in anger at having his hair pulled. This most melancholy story, the particulars of which are given in the last edition of the Ballad Book, p. 130, note xix, dates nearly a hundred years later, 1682. Only the briefest mention need be made of these unusually gratuitous surmises.
Kirkland, in D, was probably suggested by the kirkyard of other versions, assisted, possibly, by a reminiscence of the Kirkley in 'Robin Hood's Death and Burial;' for it will be observed that stanzas 8, 9 of D come pretty near to those in which Robin Hood gives direction for his grave; F 9, 10, B 5, 6 less near.[2]
Cunningham has entitled a romance of his, upon the theme of 'The Two Brothers' (which, once more, he ventures to print nearly in the state in which he once had the pleasure of hearing it sung), 'Fair Annie of Kirkland:' Songs of Scotland, II, 16.
The very pathetic passage in which the dying youth directs that father, mother, and sister shall be kept in ignorance of his death, and then, feeling how vain the attempt to conceal the fact from his true-love will be, bids that she be informed that he is in his grave and will never come back, is too truly a touch of nature to be found only here. Something similar occurs in 'Mary Hamilton,' where, however, the circumstances are very different:
'And here's to the jolly sailor lad
That sails upon the faeme!
And let not my father nor mother get wit
But that I shall come again.
And here's to the jolly sailor lad
That sails upon the sea!
But let not my father nor mother get wit
O the death that I maun dee.'
In a fine Norse ballad (see 'Brown Robyn's Confession,' further on) a man who is to be thrown overboard to save a ship takes his leave of the world with these words:
'If any of you should get back to land,
And my foster-mother ask for me,
Tell her I 'm serving in the king's court,
And living right merrily.
'If any of you should get back to land,
And my true-love ask for me,
Bid her to marry another man,
For I am under the sea.'
A baron, who has been mortally wounded in a duel, gives this charge to his servant:
'Faites mes compliments à ma femme,
Mais ne lui dites pas que j'ai été tué;
Mais dites lui que je serai allé à Paris,
Pour saluer le roi Louis.
'Dites que je serai allé à Paris,
Pour saluer le roi Louis,
Et que j'ai acheté un nouveau cheval,
Le petit cœur de mon cheval était trop gai.'
(Le Seigneur de Rosmadec, Luzel, 368/369, 374/375)
In like manner a dying klepht: "If our comrades ask about me, tell them not that I have died: say only that I have married in strange lands; have taken the flat stone for mother-in-law, the black earth for my wife, the black worms for brothers-in-law." Zambelios, p. 606, No 11, Fauriel, I, 51, Passow, p. 118, No 152; and again, Zambelios, p. 672, No 94, Passow, p. 113, No 146. In the Danish 'Elveskud,' Grundtvig, II, 115, No 47, B 18, Ole would simply have the tragic truth kept from his bride:
'Hearken, Sir Ole, of mickle pride,
How shall I answer thy young bride?'
'You must say I am gone to the wood,
To prove horse and hounds, if they be good.'
Such questions and answers as we have in D 20, E 17, F 24, are of the commonest occurrence in popular poetry, and not unknown to the poetry of art. Ballads of the 'Edward' class end generally or always in this way: see p. 168. We have again the particular question and answer which occur here in 'Lizie Wan' and in one version of 'The Trooper and Fair Maid,' Jamieson's Popular Ballads, II, 158. The question may be: When will you come back? When shall you cease to love me? When shall we be married? etc.; and the answer: When apple-trees grow in the seas; when fishes fly and seas gang dry; when all streams run together; when all swift streams are still; when it snows roses and rains wine; when all grass is rue; when the nightingale sings on the sea and the cuckoo is heard in winter; when poplars bear cherries and oaks roses; when feathers sink and stones swim; when sand sown on a stone germinates, etc., etc. See Virgil, Ecl. I, 59-63; Ovid, Met. xiii, 324-27; Wolf, Ueber die Lais, p. 433; 'Svend Vonved,' Grundtvig, I, 240, No 18, A, D; Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, 'Lord Jamie Douglas,' I, 232 f, Motherwell's Minstrelsy, Appendix, p. vii, Kinloch, Finlay, etc.; Pills to Purge Melancholy, V, 37; 'Der verwundete Knabe,' 'Die verwundete Dame,' Mittler, Nos 49-53, Erk's Liederhort, pp 111-115, Wunderhorn, IV, 358-63, Longard, p. 39, No 18, Pröhle, Welt. u. geist. Volkslieder, p. 12, No 6; Meinert, pp 28, 60, 73; Uhland, p. 127, No 65; Wunderhorn (1857), II, 223, Reifferscheid, p. 23, Liederhort, p. 345, Erk, Neue Sammlung, ii, 39, Kretzschmer, I, 143; Zuccalmaglio, pp 103, 153, 595; Peter, Volksthümliches aus Öst.-schlesien, I, 274; Ditfurth, II, 9, No 10; Fiedler, p. 187; Des Turcken Vassnachtspiel, Tieck's Deutsches Theater, I, 8; Uhland, Zur Geschichte der Dichtung, III, 216 ff; Tigri, Canti popolari toscani (1860), pp 230-242, Nos 820, 822, 823, 832, 836-40, 857, 858, 862, 868; Visconti, Saggio dei Canti p. della Provincia di Marritima e Campagna, p. 21, No 18; Nino, Saggio di Canti p. sabinesi, p. 28 f, p. 30 f; Pitrè, Saggi di Critica letteraria, p. 25; Braga, Cantos p. do Archipelago açoriano, p. 220; Möckesch, Romänische Dichtungen, p. 6 f, No 2; Passow, p. 273 f, Nos 387, 388; B. Schmidt, Griechische Märchen, etc., p. 154, No 10, and note, p. 253; Morosi, Studi sui Dialetti greci della Terra d'Otranto, p. 30, lxxv, p. 32, lxxix; Pellegrini, Canti p. dei Greci di Cargese, p. 21; De Rada, Rapsodie d'un Poema albanese, p. 29; Haupt u. Schmaler, Volkslieder der Wenden, I, 76, No 47, I, 182, No 158, I, 299, No 300; Altmann, Balalaika, Russische Volkslieder, p. 233, No 184; Golovatsky, Narodnyya Piesni galitzskoy i ugorskoy Rusi, II, 585, No 18, III, i, 12, No 9; Maximovitch, Sbornik ukrainskikh Pyesen, p. 7, No 1, p. 107, No 30; Dozon, Chansons p. bulgares, p. 283, No 57; Bodenstedt, Die poetische Ukraine, p. 46, No 14; Jordan, Ueber kleinrussische Volkspoesie, Blätter für lit. Unterhaltung, 1840, No 252, p. 1014 (Uhland); Rhesa, Ueber litthauische Volkspoesie, in Beiträge zur Kunde Preussens, I, 523; Aigner, Ungarische Volksdichtungen, pp 147, 149: etc.
E is translated by Grundtvig, Engelske og skotske Folkeviser, p. 168; Afzelius, III, 7; Grimm, Drei altschottische Lieder, p. 5; Talvi, Charakteristik, p. 567; Rosa Warrens, Schottische V. L. der Vorzeit, p. 91. Knortz, Schottische Balladen, No 4, translates Aytoun, I, 193.
Footnotes:
1. Mr. Newell says: "I have heard it sung at a picnic, by a whole earful of little girls. The melody is pretty. These children were of the poorest class."
2. "The house of Inchmurry, formerly called Kirkland, was built of old by the abbot of Holyrood-house for his accommodation when he cnme to that country, and was formerly the minister's manse." Statistical Account of Scotland, XIII, 506, cited by Jamieson, I, 62. There are still three or four Kirklands in Scotland and the north of England.
Brief Description by George Lyman Kittredge
All the Scottish versions (six in number) were obtained within the first third of the nineteenth century, and since then no others have been heard of, but the ballad has been obtained within recent years from the singing of poor children in American cities. B is considerably corrupted. It need hardly be mentioned that the age of the boys in the first two stanzas does not suit the story. The conclusion of B belongs to 'Sweet William's Ghost' (No. 77).
Child's Ballad Texts A-H
'Twa Brethren'- Version A; Child 49 The Twa Brothers
Sharpe's Ballad Book, p. 56, No 19.
1 There were twa brethren in the north,
They went to the school thegither;
The one unto the other said,
Will you try a warsle afore?
2 They warsled up, they warsled down,
Till Sir John fell to the ground,
And there was a knife in Sir Willie's pouch,
Gied him a deadlie wound.
3 'Oh brither dear, take me on your back,
Carry me to yon burn clear,
And wash the blood from off my wound,
And it will bleed nae mair.'
4 He took him up upon his back,
Carried him to yon burn clear,
And washd the blood from off his wound,
But aye it bled the mair.
5 'Oh brither dear, take me on your back,
Carry me to yon kirk-yard,
And dig a grave baith wide and deep,
And lay my body there.'
6 He's taen him up upon his back,
Carried him to yon kirk-yard,
And dug a grave baith deep and wide,
And laid his body there.
7 'But what will I say to my father dear,
Gin he chance to say, Willie, whar's John?'
'Oh say that he's to England gone,
To buy him a cask of wine.'
8 'And what will I say to my mother dear,
Gin she chance to say, Willie, whar's John?'
'Oh say that he's to England gone,
To buy her a new silk gown.'
9 'And what will I say to my sister dear,
Gin she chance to say, Willie, whar's John?'
'Oh say that he's to England gone,
To buy her a wedding ring.'
10 'But what will I say to her you loe dear,
Gin she cry, Why tarries my John?'
'Oh tell her I lie in Kirk-land fair,
And home again will never come.'
------------------
'The Cruel Brother'- Version B; Child 49 The Twa Brothers
Motherwell's Manuscript, p. 259. From Widow McCormick, January 19, 1825.
1 There was two little boys going to the school,
And twa little boys they be,
They met three brothers playing at the ba,
And ladies dansing hey.
2 'It's whether will ye play at the ba, brither,
Or else throw at the stone?'
'I am too little, I am too young,
O brother let me alone.'
3 He pulled out a little penknife,
That was baith sharp and sma,
He gave his brother a deadly wound
That was deep, long and sair.
4 He took the holland sark off his back,
He tore it frae breast to gare,
He laid it to the bloody wound,
That still bled mair and mair.
5 'It's take me on your back, brother,' he says,
'And carry me to yon kirk-yard,
And make me there a very fine grave,
That will be long and large.
6 'Lay my bible at my head,' he says,
'My chaunter at my feet,
My bow and arrows by my side,
And soundly I will sleep.
7 'When you go home, brother,' he says,
'My father will ask for me;
You may tell him I am in Saussif town,
Learning my lesson free.
8 'When you go home, brother,' he says,
'My mother will ask for me;
You may tell her I am in Sausaf town,
And I'll come home merrily.
9 'When you go home, brother,' he says,
'Lady Margaret will ask for me;
You may tell her I'm dead and in grave laid,
And buried in Sausaff toun.'
10 She put the small pipes to her mouth,
And she harped both far and near,
Till she harped the small birds off the briers,
And her true love out of the grave.
11 'What's this? what's this, lady Margaret?' he says,
'What's this you want of me?'
'One sweet kiss of your ruby lips,
That's all I want of thee.'
12 'My lips they are so bitter,' he says,
'My breath it is so strong,
If you get one kiss of my ruby lips,
Your days will not be long.'
---------------
'The Twa Brithers'- Version C; Child 49- The Twa Brothers
Motherwell's Manuscript, p. 649. From the recitation of Mrs. Cunningham, Ayr.
1 There were twa brithers at ae scule;
As they were coming hame,
Then said the ane until the other
'John, will ye throw the stane?'
2 'I will not throw the stane, brither,
I will not play at the ba;
But gin ye come to yonder wood
I'll warsle you a fa.'
3 The firsten fa young Johnie got,
It brought him to the ground;
The wee pen-knife in Willie's pocket
Gied him a deadly wound.
4 'Tak aff, tak aff, my holland sark,
And rive it frae gore to gore,
And stap it in my bleeding wounds,
They'll aiblins bleed noe more.'
5 He pouit aff his holland sark,
And rave it frae gore to gore,
And stapt it in his bleeding wounds,
But ay they bled the more.
6 'O brither, tak me on your back,
And bear me hence away,
And carry me to Chester kirk,
And lay me in the clay.'
7 'What will I say to your father,
This night when I return?'
'Tell him I'm gane to Chester scule,
And tell him no to murn.'
8 'What will I say to your mother,
This nicht whan I gae hame?'
'She wishd afore I cam awa
That I might neer gae hame.'
9 'What will I say to your true-love,
This nicht when I gae hame?'
'Tell her I'm dead and in my grave,
For her dear sake alane.'
10 He took him upon his back
And bore him hence away,
And carried him to Chester kirk,
And laid him in the clay.
11 He laid him in the cauld cauld clay,
And he cuirt him wi a stane,
And he's awa to his fathers ha,
Sae dowilie alane.
12 'You're welcome, dear son,' he said,
'You're welcome hame to me;
But what's come o your brither John,
That gade awa wi thee?'
13 'Oh he's awa to Chester scule,
A scholar he'll return;
He bade me tell his father dear
About him no to murn.'
14 'You're welcome hame, dear son,' she said,
'You're welcome hame to me;
But what's come o your brither John,
That gade awa wi thee?'
15 'He bade me tell his mother dear,
This nicht when I cam hame,
Ye wisht before he gade awa,
That he might neer return.'
16 Then next came up his true-love dear,
And heavy was her moan;
'You're welcome hame, dear Will,' she said,
'But whare's your brither John?'
17 'O lady, cease your trouble now,
O cease your heavy moan;
He's dead and in the cauld cauld clay,
For your dear sake alone.'
18 She ran distraught, she wept, she sicht,
She wept the sma brids frae the tree,
She wept the starns adoun frae the lift,
She wept the fish out o the sea.
19 'O cease your weeping, my ain true-love,
Ye but disturb my rest;'
'Is that my ain true lover John,
The man that I loe best?'
20 ''Tis naething but my ghaist,' he said,
'That's sent to comfort thee;
O cease your weeping, my true-love,
And 'twill gie peace to me.'
--------------
'The Twa Brothers, or, The Wood o Warslin'- Version D; Child 49 The Twa Brothers
Jamieson's Popular Ballads, I, 59. From the recitation of mrs. W. Arrott, of Aberbrothick.
1 'O will ye gae to the school, brother?
Or will ye gae to the ba?
Or will ye gae to the wood a-warslin,
To see whilk o's maun fa?'
2 'It's I winna gae to the school, brother,
Nor will I gae to the ba;
But I will gae to the wood a-warslin,
And it is you maun fa.'
3 They warstled up, they warstled down,
The lee-lang simmer's day;
. . . . .
. . . .
4 'O lift me up upon your back,
Tak me to yon wall fair;
You'll wash my bluidy wounds oer and oer,
And syne they'll bleed nae mair.
5 'And ye'll tak aff my hollin sark,
And riv't frae gair to gair;
Ye'll stap it in my bluidy wounds,
And syne they'll bleed nae mair.'
6 He's liftit his brother upon his back,
Taen him to yon wall fair;
He's washed his bluidy wounds oer and oer,
But ay they bled mair and mair.
7 And he's taen aff his hollin sark,
And riven't frae gair to gair;
He's stappit it in his bluidy wounds,
But ay they bled mair and mair.
8 'Ye'll lift me up upon your back,
Tak me to Kirkland fair;
Ye'll mak my greaf baith braid and lang,
And lay my body there.
9 Ye'll lay my arrows at my head,
My bent bow at my feet,
My sword and buckler at my side,
As I was wont to sleep.
10 'Whan ye gae hame to your father,
He'll speer for his son John:
Say, ye left him into Kirkland fair,
Learning the school alone.
11 'When ye gae hame to my sister,
She'll speer for her brother John:
Ye'll say, ye left him in Kirkland fair,
The green grass growin aboon.
12 'Whan ye gae hame to my true-love,
She'll speer for her lord John:
Ye'll say, ye left him in Kirkland fair,
But hame ye fear he'll never come.'
13 He's gane hame to his father;
He speered for his son John:
'It's I left him into Kirkland fair,
Learning the school alone.'
14 And whan he gaed hame to his sister,
She speered for her brother John:
'It's I left him into Kirkland fair,
The green grass growin aboon.'
15 And whan he gaed home to his true-love,
She speerd for her lord John:
'It's I left him into Kirkland fair,
And hame I fear he'll never come.'
16 'But whaten bluid's that on your sword, Willie?
Sweet Willie, tell to me;'
'O it is the bluid o my grey hounds,
They wadna rin for me.'
17 'It's nae the bluid o your hounds, Willie,
Their bluid was never so red;
But it is the bluid o my true-love,
That ye hae slain indeed.'
18 That fair may wept, that fair may mournd,
That fair may mournd and pin'd:
'When every lady looks for her love,
I neer need look for mine.'
19 'O whaten a death will ye die, Willie?
Now, Willie, tell to me;'
'Ye'll put me in a bottomless boat,
And I'll gae sail the sea.'
20 'Whan will ye come hame again, Willie?
Now, Willie, tell to me;'
'Whan the sun and moon dances on the green,
And that will never be.'
-------------
'The Twa Brothers'- Version E; Child 49 The Twa Brothers
Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 60.
1 There were twa brothers at the scule,
And when they got awa,
'It's will ye play at the stane-chucking,
Or will ye play at the ba,
Or will ye gae up to yon hill head,
And there we'll warsel a fa?'
2 'I winna play at the stane-chucking,
Nor will I play at the ba;
But I'll gae up to yon bonnie green hill,
And there we'll warsel a fa.'
3 They warsled up, they warsled down,
Till John fell to the ground;
A dirk fell out of William's pouch,
And gave John a deadly wound.
4 'O lift me upon your back,
Take me to yon well fair,
And wash my bluidy wounds oer and oer,
And they'll neer bleed nae mair.'
5 He's lifted his brother upon his back,
Taen him to yon well fair;
He's wash'd his bluidy wounds oer and oer,
But they bleed ay mair and mair.
6 'Tak ye aff my holland sark,
And rive it gair by gair,
And row it in my bluidy wounds,
And they'll neer bleed nae mair.'
7 He's taken aff his holland sark,
And torn it gair by gair;
He's rowit it in his bluidy wounds,
But they bleed ay mair and mair.
8 'Tak now aff my green cleiding,
And row me saftly in,
And tak me up to yon kirk-style,
Whare the grass grows fair and green.'
9 He's taken aff the green cleiding,
And rowed him saftly in;
He's laid him down by yon kirk-style,
Whare the grass grows fair and green.
10 'What will ye say to your father dear,
When ye gae hame at een?'
'I'll say ye're lying at yon kirk-style,
Whare the grass grows fair and green.'
11 'O no, O no, my brother dear,
O you must not say so;
But say that I'm gane to a foreign land,
Whare nae man does me know.'
12 When he sat in his father's chair,
He grew baith pale and wan:
'O what blude's that upon your brow?
O dear son, tell to me;'
'It is the blude of my gray steed,
He wadna ride wi me.'
13 'O thy steed's blude was neer sae red,
Nor eer sae dear to me:
O what blude's this upon your cheek?
O dear son, tell to me;'
'It is the blude of my greyhound,
He wadna hunt for me.'
14 'O thy hound's blude was neer sae red,
Nor eer sae dear to me:
O what blude's this upon your hand?
O dear son, tell to me;'
'It is the blude of my gay goss-hawk,
He wadna flee for me.'
15 'O thy hawk's blude was neer sae red,
Nor eer sae dear to me:
O what blude's this upon your dirk?
Dear Willie, tell to me;'
'It is the blude of my ae brother,
O dule and wae is me!'
16 'O what will ye say to your father?
Dear Willie, tell to me;'
'I'll saddle my steed, and awa I'll ride,
To dwell in some far countrie.'
17 'O when will ye come hame again?
Dear Willie, tell to me;'
'When sun and mune leap on yon hill,
And that will never be.'
18 She turnd hersel right round about,
And her heart burst into three:
'My ae best son is deid and gane,
And my tother ane I'll neer see.'
-----------
'The Two Brothers'- Version F; Child 49 The Twa Brothers
Buchan's Manuscripts, I, 57; Motherwell's Manuscript, p. 662.
1 There were twa brothers in the east,
Went to the school o Ayr;
The one unto the other did say,
Come let us wrestle here.
2 They wrestled up and wrestled down,
Till John fell to the ground;
There being a knife in Willie's pocket,
Gae John his deadly wound.
3 'O is it for my gold, brother?
Or for my white monie?
Or is it for my lands sae braid,
That ye hae killed me?'
4 'It is not for your gold,' he said,
'Nor for your white monie;
It is by the hand o accident
That I hae killed thee.'
5 'Ye'll take the shirt that's on my back,
Rive it frae gair to gair,
And try to stop my bloody wounds,
For they bleed wonderous sair.'
6 He's taen the shirt was on his back,
Reave it frae gare to gare,
And tried to stop his bleeding wounds,
But still they bled the mair.
7 'Ye'll take me up upon your back,
Carry me to yon water clear,
And try to stop my bloody wounds,
For they run wonderous sair.'
8 He's taen him up upon his back,
Carried him to yon water clear,
And tried to stop his bleeding wounds,
But still they bled the mair.
9 'Ye'll take me up upon your back,
Carry me to yon church-yard;
Ye'll dig a grave baith wide and deep,
And then ye'll lay me there.
10 'Ye'll put a head-stane at my head,
Another at my feet,
Likewise a sod on my breast-bane,
The souner I may sleep.
11 'Whenever my father asks of thee,
Saying, What's become of John?
Ye'll tell frae me, I'm ower the sea,
For a cargo of good wine.
12 'And when my sweetheart asks of thee,
Saying, What's become of John?
Ye'll tell frae me, I'm ower the sea,
To buy a wedding gown.
13 'And when my sister asks of thee,
Saying, William, where is John?
Ye'll tell frae me, I'm ower the sea,
To learn some merry sang.
14 'And when my mother asks of thee,
Saying, William, where is John?
Tell her I'm buried in green Fordland,
The grass growing ower my tomb.'
15 He's taen him up upon his back,
Carried him to yon church-yard,
And dug a grave baith wide and deep,
And he was buried there.
16 He laid a head-stane at his head,
Another at his feet,
And laid a green sod on his breast,
The souner he might sleep.
17 His father asked when he came hame,
Saying, 'William, where is John?'
Then John said, 'He is ower the sea,
To bring you hame some wine.'
18 'What blood is this upon you, William,
And looks sae red on thee?'
'It is the blood o my grey-hound,
He woudna run for me.'
19 'O that's nae like your grey-hound's blude,
William, that I do see;
I fear it is your own brother's blood
That looks sae red on thee.'
20 'That is not my own brother's blude,
Father, that ye do see;
It is the blood o my good grey steed,
He woudna carry me.'
21 'O that is nae your grey steed's blude,
William, that I do see;
It is the blood o your brother John,
That looks sae red on thee.'
22 'It's nae the blood o my brother John,
Father, that ye do see;
It is the blude o my good grey hawk,
Because he woudna flee.'
23 'O that is nae your grey hawk's blood,
William, that I do see:'
'Well, it's the blude o my brother,
This country I maun flee.'
24 'O when will ye come back again,
My dear son, tell to me?'
'When sun and moon gae three times round,
And this will never be.'
25 'Ohon, alas! now William, my son,
This is bad news to me;
Your brother's death I'll aye bewail,
And the absence o thee.'
--------------
'John and William'- Version G; Child 49 The Twa Brothers
a. Taken down lately from the singing of little girls in South Boston.
b. Two stanzas, from a child in New York, 1850. Communicated by Mr. W.W. Newell.
1 As John and William were coming home one day,
One Saturday afternoon,
Says John to William, Come and try a fight,
Or will you throw a stone?
Or will you come down to yonder, yonder town
Where the maids are all playing ball, ball, ball,
Where the maids are all playing ball?
2 Says William to John, I will not try a fight,
Nor will I throw a stone,
Nor will I come down to yonder town,
Where the maids are all playing ball.
3 So John took out of his pocket
A knife both long and sharp,
And stuck it through his brother's heart,
And the blood came pouring down.
4 Says John to William, Take off thy shirt,
And tear it from gore to gore,
And wrap it round your bleeding heart,
And the blood will pour no more.'
5 So John took off his shirt,
And tore it from gore to gore,
And wrapped it round his bleeding heart,
And the blood came pouring more.
6 'What shall I tell your dear father,
When I go home to-night?'
'You'll tell him I'm dead and in my grave,
For the truth must be told.'
7 'What shall I tell your dear mother,
When I go home to-night?'
'You'll tell her I'm dead and in my grave,
For the truth must be told.'
8 'How came this blood upon your knife?
My son, come tell to me;'
'It is the blood of a rabbit I have killed,
O mother, pardon me.'
9 'The blood of a rabbit couldnt be so pure,
My son, come tell to me:'
'It is the blood of a squirrel I have killed,
O mother, pardon me.'
10 'The blood of a squirrel couldnt be so pure,
My son, come tell to me:'
'It is the blood of a brother I have killed,
O mother, pardon me.'
-------------
'Perthshire Tredgey'- Version H; Child 49- The Twa Brothers
From a copy formerly in the possession of Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe. This fragment has some resemblances to F. "Copied 1823" is endorsed on the sheet (in the hand which made an insertion in st. 11) and crossed out.
1 Two pretty boys lived in the North,
The went to the school so rare;
The one unto the other said,
We'll try some battle of war.
2 The worselaid up, the worselaid down,
Till John lay on the ground;
A pen-knife out of William's pocket
Gave John a deadly wound.
3 'O is it for my gold?' he said,
'Or for my rich monie?
Or is it for my land sa broad,
That you have killed me?'
4 'It's neither for your gold,' he said,
'Or for your rich monie,
But it is for your land sa broad
That I have killed thee.'
5 'You'll take [me] up upon your back,
Carry me to Wastlen kirk-yard;
You'ill houk a hole large and deep,
And lay my body there.
6 'You'll put a good stone ou my head,
Another at me feet,
A good green turf upon my breast,
That the sounder I m[a]y sleep.
7 'And if my father chance to ask
What's come of your brother John,
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . . .
* * * * *
8 'What blood is this upon your coat?
I pray come tell to me;'
'It is the blood of my grey hound,
It would not run for me.'
9 'The blood of your greyhound was near so red,
I pray come tell to me;'
'It is the blood of my black horse,
It would not hunt for me.'
10 'The blood of your black horse was near so red,
I pray come tell to me;'
'It is the blood of my brother John,
Since better canna be.'
* * * * *
11 He put his foot upon a ship,
Saying, I am gane our the sea;
'O when will you come back again,
I pray come tell to me.'
12 'When the sun and the moon passes over the broom,
That['s] the day you'll never see.'
End-Notes
A. 12. Var. to the chase.
103. "As to Kirk-land, my copy has only kirk-yard, till the last verse, where land has been added from conjecture." Sharpe's Ballad-Book, p. 56.
D. 13, 23. o Warslin.
F. 133. tell me free.
Motherwell has Scotticised the spelling.
94. Motherwell has leave.
111, 121, 131 141. Motherwell, speirs at thee.
233. Motherwell has my ae brother.
G. b. 1. Jack and William was gone to school,
One fine afternoon;
Jack says to William, Will you try a fight?
Do not throw no stones.
2. Jack took out his little penknife,
The end of it was sharp,
He stuck it through his brother's heart,
And the blood was teeming down
Additions and Corrections
P. 437 b. Add, though perhaps superfluous: Passow, p. 316, No 437, vv. 37, 38; Legrand, Recueil de Chansons pop. grecques, p. 220, v. 24 ff, p. 330, v. 17 ff; Aravandinos, No 435, v. 7 ff.
P. 435. There is a copy in Nimmo, Songs and Ballads of Clydesdale, p. 131, made from D, E, with half a dozen lines for connection.
437 b. It is E (not A) that is translated by Grundtvig; and D by Afzelius, Grimm, Talvj, Rosa Warrens.
436 f. In one of the older Croat ballads Marko Kraljević and his brother Andrija, who have made booty of three horses, quarrel about the third when they come to dividing, and Marko fells Andrija with a stab. Andrija charges Marko not to tell their mother what took place, but to say that he is not coming home, because he has become enamored of a girl in a foreign country. Bogišić, p. 18, No 6. There is a Magyar-Croat variant of this, in which two brothers returning from war fall out about a girl, and the older (who, by the way, is a married man) stabs the younger. The dying brother wishes the mother to be told that he has staid behind to buy presents for her and his sisters. The mother asks when her son will come home. The elder brother answers, When a crow turns white and a withered maple greens. The (simple) mother gets a crow and bathes it daily in milk, and irrigates the tree with wine; but in vain. Other Slavic examples of these hopeless eventualities: Little-Russian, Golovatsky, I, 74, No 30, 97, No 7, 164, No 12, 173, No 23, 229, No 59; II, 41, No 61, 585, No 18, 592, No 27; III, 12, No 9, 136, No 256, 212, No 78; Bohemian, Erben, p. 182, No 340; Polish, Roger, p. 3, No 2; Servian, Vuk, I, No 364, Herzegovine, p. 209, No 176, p. 322, No 332; Bulgarian, Verković, No 226; Dozon, p. 95; Magyar-Croat, Kurelac, p. 11, No 61, p. 130, No 430, p. 156, No 457 (and note), p. 157, No 459, p. 244, No 557. (W.W.)
The following are mostly trivial variations from the spelling of the text.
441 a, 16. Read warsell. 43. Read bloody.
P. 486, II, 14, in, 381 b. 'Tell my mother I am married,' etc.: so in the beautiful Roumanian 'Miorita,' Alecsandri, p. 3.
438. A b. 'The Two Brothers,' Walks near Edinburgh, by Margaret Warrender, 1890, p. 60. Given to Lady John Scott many years ago by Campbell Riddell, brother of Sir James Riddell of Ardnamurchan.
1 There were two brothers in the north,
Lord William and Lord John,
And they would try a wrestling match,
So to the fields they've gone, gone, gone,
So to the fields they've gone.
2 They wrestled up, they wrestled down,
Till Lord John fell on the ground.
And a knife into Lord William's pocket
Gave him a deadly wound.
3 'Oh take me on your back, dear William,' he said,
'And carry me to the burnie clear,
And wash my wound sae deep and dark,
Maybe 't will bleed nae mair.'
4 He took him up upon his back,
An carried him to the burnie clear,
But aye the mair he washed his wound
It aye did bleed the mair.
5 'Oh take me On your back, dear William,' he said,
'And carry me to the kirkyard fair,
And dig a grave sae deep and dark,
And lay my body there.'
6 'But what shall I say to my father dear
When he says, Willie, what's become of John?'
'Oh tell him I am gone to Greenock town,
To buy him a puncheon of rum.'
7 'And what shall I say to my sister dear
When she says, Willie, what's become of John?'
'Oh tell her I've gone to London town
To buy her a marriage-gown.'
8 'But what shall I say to my grandmother dear
When she says, Willie, what's become of John?'
'Oh tell her I'm in the kirkyard dark,
And that I'm dead and gone.'
I
P. 435, V, 217. Communicated by Mr. J.K. Hudson of Manchester. Sung after a St. George play regularly acted on All Souls' Day at a village a few miles from Chester, and written down for Mr. Hudson by one of the performers, a lad of sixteen. The play was introduced by a song called Souling (similar to a Stephening, see I, 234), and followed by two songs, of which this is the last, the whole dramatic company singing. [Version of Edward]
1 'And it's where hast thou been all this night long, my son?
Come tell it unto me.'
'I have been lying on yonder bull-rushes,
Which lies beneath yond tree.'
2 'And it's what are the spots on this thy coat, my son?
Come tell it unto me.'
'They are the spots of my poor brother's blood,
Which lies beneath yonder tree.'
3 'And it's what didst thou kill thy poor brother for, my son?
Come tell it unto me.'
'Because he killed two pretty little birds,
Which flew from tree to tree.'
4 'And it's what will the father say when he comes, my son?
Come tell it unto me.'
'I will dress me up in sailor's clothes,
And my face he will never see.'
5 'And it's what wilt thou do with thy pretty little wife, my son?
Come tell it unto me.'
'I will dress her up in lad[d]ie's clothes,
And she will sail along with me.'
6 'And it's what wilt thou do with thy children three, my son?
Come tell it unto me.'
'I will leave them to my poor grandfather to rear,
And comfort [to] him [to be].'
7 'And it's when shall we see thy face again, my son?
Come tell it unto me.'
'When the sun and moon shines both at once,
And that shall never be.'
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
P. 436 a, 3d paragraph. It ought to have been remarked that it was a William Somerville that killed John. The names being the same as in the ballad, "unusually gratuitous" is not warranted.
438. A was derived by Sharpe from Elizabeth Kerry. The original copy was not all written at one time, but may have been written by one person. The first and the last stanza, and some corrections, are in the same hand as a letter which accompanied the ballad. The paper has a watermark of 1817. A few trifling differences in the Manuscript may be noted:
11. twa.
12. school (Note. "I have heard it called the Chase"): the githar.
14. afar.
21. wrestled.
44. And.
51. brother.
6. both.
72, 82, 92. Should for Gin.
81. what shall.
101. But wanting.
103. in fair Kirkland. (Letter. "I remembered a fair Kirk something, and Kirkland it must have been.")
104. again wanting.
H. 'Perthshire Tredgey.' From a copy formerly in the possession of Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe. This fragment has some resemblances to F. "Copied 1823" is endorsed on the sheet (in the hand which made an insertion in st. 11) and crossed out.
1 Two pretty boys lived in the North,
The went to the school so rare;
The one unto the other said,
We'll try some battle of war.
2 The worselaid up, the worselaid down,
Till John lay on the ground;
A pen-knife out of William's pocket
Gave John a deadly wound.
3 'O is it for my gold?' he said,
'Or for my rich monie?
Or is it for my land sa broad,
That you have killed me?'
4 'It's neither for your gold,' he said,
'Or for your rich monie,
But it is for your land sa broad
That I have killed thee.'
5 'You'll take [me] up upon your back,
Carry me to Wastlen kirk-yard;
You'ill houk a hole large and deep,
And lay my body there.
6 'You'll put a good stone ou my head,
Another at my feet,
A good green turf upon my breast,
That the sounder I m[a]y sleep.
7 'And if my father chance to ask
What's come of your brother John,
. . .
. . .
* * *
8 8 'What blood is this upon your coat?
I pray come tell to me;'
'It is the blood of my grey hound,
It would not run for me.'
9 'The blood of your greyhound was near so red,
I pray come tell to me;'
'It is the blood of my black horse,
It would not hunt for me.'
10 'The blood of your black horse was near so red,
I pray come tell to me;'
'It is the blood of my brother John,
Since better canna be.'
11 He put his foot upon a ship,
Saying, I am gane our the sea;
'O when will you come back again,
I pray come tell to me.'
12 'When the sun and the moon passes over the broom,
That ['s] the day you'll never see.'
21. worse laid, misheard for warseled.
33. lands abroad for land sae broad (misheard).
41. After your, la and half of an n, lan caught from 33.
43. land abroad. The reciter, or more probably the transcriber, has become confirmed in the error made in 33.
113. come inserted in a different hand.
113,4 should probably be the first half of stanza 12.