Butcher's Boy- Elizabeth Stewart (Aber) c1955
[My date. Up Yon Wide and Lonely Glen: Travellers' Songs, Stories and Tunes of the Fetterangus Stewarts by Elizabeth Stewart, Alison McMorland 2012; Binnorrie : songs, ballads, and tunes; CD, 2004.
An online bio is at the bottom on this page with text from Up Yon Wide and Lonely Glen: Travellers' Songs, Stories and Tunes etc.
R. Matteson 2016]
Butcher's Boy- sung by Elizabeth Stewart as learned from her mother (c. 1955), with minor changes.
O my parents they gi'ed to me good learning
Good learning they gi'ed to me
They sent me to a butcher shop
A butcher's boy to be.
I fell in love with a nice young lass
She'd a dark and a roving 'ee
I promised for to marry her
If one night she would lie with me
He courted her for many a month
Six long months and mair
But another ain had ta'en his ee
And he was to despair.
For Mary Ann was wi' bairn to him
O Willie fit will I dee
For my bairn will soon be born,
So Willie marry me!
He went up to her parents' house
Twixt the hours of eight or nine
He asked her for to take a walk
Down by the riverside
They walked east and the walked west
And they walked all around
Till he took a knife from out his breast
And he stabbed her to the ground
She fell upon her bended knee
And for mercy she did cry
O Willie dear don't murder me
And leave me here to die
He took her by her milk white hand
And he dragged her on and on
until he came to a rushing stream,
and he plunged her body in.
O he went on to his mother's house,
'Tween the hours of twelve and one
'Tis little did his mother think
What her only son had done.
Well the answer she did put to him,
Why the bloodstains on your clothes
The answer that he give to her
'Twas from a bleeding nose
He asked her for a candle
For to light him up to bed
And likewise for a handkerchief
For to tie around his head.
No peace nor rest could the young man take
No peace nor rest could he find
For he thought he saw the flames of hell
Approachin' in his mind.
This man he has been taen and tried
And the gallows was his doom,
For the murdering of sweet Mary Ann
Afore that was in bloom.
_____________________
Elizabeth Stewart- bio
Elizabeth StewartFor the best part of six decades, Elizabeth Stewart, singer, pianist, composer and storyteller, has championed and perpetuated the vibrant store of song, music and lore nurtured by her traveller family over generations.
She was born in 1939 in a croft in “the Dukker” – Duke Street in Fetterangus, one of four children in a “settled” traveller family in which the women in particular were doughty characters and vital tradition-bearers. Her mother, Jean Stewart, was a trained musician, teacher and a household name in Aberdeenshire as an accordionist and dance band leader who broadcast with the BBC, and while all the family were steeped in balladry and lore, her aunt, Lucy Stewart, possessed a particularly rich store. This musical genealogy also included a male lineage of champion military pipers, some of whom perished in the First World War). Behind them all were the redoubtable figures of her grandmother, “Auld Betty” Stewart, her husband Jimmsy Stewart and his father “Auld Crichie” Donald, both great pipers and fiddlers. Betty brought up a family of 14, rag-gathering and hawking to pay for music lessons.
Elizabeth inherited her musicality especially from her mother and from Lucy Stewart, from whom she absorbed a wealth of song and lore, particularly the “muckle sangs” which remain in her repertoire, just as Lucy had learned them from Auld Betty. Among other things, Elizabeth absorbed many ballads and tales of the supernatural which have remained a strand of her repertoire –The Cruel Mither, for instance, which she says terrified her when she first heard it from her aunt. She also composed ballads of her own, such as Lord Gordon’s Bonny Boys and Cruel Edwin, the latter inspired by a particularly haunting true story, which Lucy and Betty had learned from the woman involved. Not only does she give authoritative voice to one of greatest north-east songs, The Battle of Harlaw, but she can also tell of a ghostly encounter involving her grandparents when they, perhaps unwisely, camped on the traditional site of the battle.
In 1954, the roving song collector and folk revival activist Hamish Henderson arrived at the family’s home in Fetterangus, recorded Lucy and went on to introduce other folklorists, such as Peter Kennedy, Alan Lomax and Kenneth Goldstein. Goldstein’s intensive recording of the family and particularly Lucy, releasing a record of her singing Child Ballads on the Folkways label, caused the reputation of the Fetterangus Stewarts to burgeon, and Elizabeth found herself in increasing demand as a singer and musician. At 14, she was playing piano arrangements of pipe matches on the radio, but was deemed by her family to be too young to tour Canada at the invitation of the great bandleader Bobby MacLeod. A few years later, however, she was in Birmingham, contributing to Singing the Fishing, one of the ground-breaking Radio Ballads series produced by Ewan MacColl, Charles Parker and Peggy Seeger.
After a period of more local appearances and running clubs while she brought up her children, in 1972 Elizabeth was invited to appear at music festival in North Carolina, and ended up touring schools and universities across 18 states, the first of several American visits. Back at home she has been a keen supporter of TMSA festivals, as well as other song-orientated events such as the Cullerlie Singing Weekend, and has given presentations and masterclasses to students on the Scottish Music Degree course at the RSAMD (now the Royal Scottish Conservatoire). Her songs and music have been recorded on two albums, Atween You and Me in 1992 and the double album Binorrie in 2004. She also contributed her version of the great battle ballad to Harlaw: Scotland 1411, released by Bonnie Rideout and John Purser to mark the 600th anniversary of the debacle.
Elizabeth’s musical input and tastes aren’t entirely traditional by any means: adept at transposing pipe tunes to the piano, in her youth she wasn’t averse to Jerry Lee Lewis and Winifred Atwell-style boogie-woogie. Above all, however, she describes her family’s rich musical heritage as “top priority”.
In the words of singer and musicologist Alison McMorland, who compiled and edited Stewart’s book about her family and their music, Up Yon Wide and Lonely Glen (2012), she feels “an immense responsibility to honour her ancestral and close family”, She is also, says McMorland, a performer “who gives of herself in her singing. You can hear the artistry of herself and her mother in it”.
Butcher Boy -On Autumn Harvest ah003
1: Oh ma parents they gaed tae me good learning,
Good learnin they gaed tae me;
They sent me tae a butcher shop,
A butcher boy tae be.
2: I fell in love wi a nice young lass,
She'd a dark and the rovin ee;
I promised that I'd mairry her,
If one nicht she wad lie wi me.
3: He had coorted her for mony's a day,
Six lang months an mair;
But anither een had taen his ee,
And he wis tae dispair.
4: For Mary Anne wis wi bairn tae him,
"Oh Willie what will I dae?
For ma baby it will soon be born,
So will you mairry me?"
5: He went up to her mother's house,
'Tween the hours o eight and nine;
He asked her for tae tak a walk,
Down by the river side.
6: They walkèd east and they walkèd west,
And they walkèd aa aroond;
Till he took a knifie oot his breist,
And he stabbed her to the ground.
7: She went upon her bended knee,
And for mercy she did cry;
Oh Willie dinna murder me,
And leave me here tae die.
8: He took her by the milk-white hand,
And he dragged her on her own;
Until they came to yon rushing stream,
And he plunged her body in.
9: He went up to his mother's house,
'Tween the hours o twelve and one;
It's little did his mither think,
What her only son hae done.
10: The question she did put to him,
"Why the blood stains on your glove?"
The answer he gave to her,
"It wis from a bloody nose."
11: He asked her for a candle.
For to light him up to bed;
And likewise for a handkerchief,
For to tie aroond his head.
12: Nae peace nor rest could this young man get,
No peace nor rest could he find;
For he thought he saw the flames o hell,
Approachin' in his mind.
13: Noo this young man has been taen an tried,
And the gallows it wis his doom;
For the murdering of sweet Mary Ann,
A flooer that wis in bloom.