English & Other Versions 85. Lady Alice
CONTENTS:
Lady Alice- Bell (England) 1846 Child A a.
Lady Alice- Hawkins (England) 1856 Child A b.
Giles Collins & Proud Lady Anna- Ritson 1810 Child B
Giles Collin- Mason 1877 Child C
Giles Collins and Lady Annice- Haggard 1888 Child (Additional text)
Giles Collins- Miller 1854 Child (Additional text)
Giles Collins- (England) 1843 Halliwell BOOK
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[This is one of the earliest printed versions of Lady Alice, appearing in 1799. This version was not mentioned by Child and has been overlooked by ballad researchers.
R. Matteson 2012]
The Spirit of the Public Journals: being an impartial selection of the most exquisite essays and Jeux D'esprits, Principally prose; That appear in Newspapers and other Publications; Volume 1- Second edition, edited by Stephen Jones, Charles Molloy Westmacott- 1799
CRITICISM ON AN ANCIENT BALLAD
SIR,
TO point out to public notice the merits of a Poem, is confessedly the noblest, as well as the most agreeable part of criticism. Dennis may hunt the errors of Cato, while its illustrious author is employed in immortalizing Chevy-Chace, by praises which will probably out-live the subject of them. Antiquity presents us with many commendatory critics, and the writers of Greece and of Rome have almost all found some one to applaud what, if they had written in modern times, would have drawn on them acrimonieus censure. During the present century, however, some of the ancient authors of our own country, who have confined themselves within a sheet of paper, have met with someone to refresh their laurels. Not only Chevy-Chace, but the Children in the Wood, and many otfter popular songs, have been dignified by panegyrics. The Lover's Ballad yet remains unpraised; not because it is undeserving, but because it is obscure.
That this poem is of great antiquity, may be concluded from its language and conduct. The heroine is introduced in a situation in which sew modern fine ladies can be found, that of mending her night-cap. We know, too, that the custom of burying the dead in open coffins, without any covering, in order to prevent the suspicion of violence, has been long discontinued.
Lady Alice was sitting at her bow-window,
Amending her night-coif;
And there she law the finest corpse
That ever she saw in her life.
Lady Alice she laid to the four tall bearers,
"What bear you on your shoulders?"
"It is the body of Giles Collins,
An old true lover of yours."
The great beauty of the second stanza is the circumstance of Giles Collins' love towards Lady Alice being so generally known; and the delicate and ingenious manner in which the tall bearers insinuate the cause of his death to have been his unfortunate passion for that lady. The provincialisms and the rugged metre of this poem can only be excused by the barbarism of that age in which it was probably written.
"Set him down, set him down," Lady Alice she said;
"Set him down on the grass so trim;
For before the clock it doth strike twelve,
My body shall lie by him."
Lady Alice she then put on her night-coif,
Which fitted her wond 'roufly well;
She cut her throat with a sharp pen-knise,
As the four tall bearers can tell.
If Cæsar has been deservedly praised by his biographers, for the solicitude which he discovered to die with decorum, let the same praise be extended to Lady Alice, whose night-coif was as material to the propriety of her apoearance, as the robe of the Roman Emperor. The moral of these verses, it may be said, is not agreeable to modern times; and suicide should not be encouraged by example, even in fiction. We may here appeal to Virgil, who makes Dido act in the fame way, although he considered self-murder to be criminal, as appears from the sixth book of the Æneid.
Proxima deinde tenint majii loca quisibi letum
---------pepercre manu, lucimque perori
Projecere mamas------------
and the rest of the passage.
It may be observed, too, that Dido and Lady Alice, and I believe all our great heroines, declare their intentions first, to shew how innocent they are of the knowledge of any guilt in them; and, sensible pf the propriety of their conduct, choose to have witnesses of their contempt of death.
Lady Alice was buried in the east church-yard,
Giles Collins was buried in the south;
And there came a lilly out of Giles Collins's nose,
Which reach'd Lady Alice's mouth.
The learned reader will immediately perceive that this thought is strictly classical. It is perhaps borrowed from Persius; who, in describing the advantages which a deceased poet derives from applauie bestowed upon his works, exclaims,
Nunc non i tnanibus illti
Nunc non i lumulo fortunataque fa-villa,
Nascentur violie
It is indeed astonishing how favourable to vegetation the corpses of a pair of lovers generally prove. It is long since I looked into Ovid; but I remember there are few, either male or female, who die for love, who do not add something useful or agreeable to the kitchen to the flower garden.
The limited space which the more important articles of your paper will suffer me to occupy, is much toy small to admit an examination of the particular excellence of each line. Of the whole, considered in the Aristotelian sense, as composed of beginning, middle, and end, the utmost praise that can be uttered is, that it is interesting. His acuteness, to speak in the diction of a brother critic, is more to be commended than his feelings, who can read with a malignant sneer, what was written under the influence of strong passions; nor was he, perhaps, so reasonable as he might have imagined himielf to be, who-first attempted to subject to the laws of poetry, those passions of which it is unhappily often a characteristic to defy the laws of morality.
[St. James's Chron.] Momus Criticorum.
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The Ballad Minstrelsy of Scotland: Romantic and Historical
CLERK COLVILL AND THE MERMAID.
The following ballad was printed in Herd's Scottish Songs, vol. i., p. 217; and in an altered shape in Lewis's Tales of Wonder, No. 56.
It was reprinted from Herd by Mr. Buchan, in his Gleanings, &c, p. 92; and in a note thereto, in the same collection, p. 195, he states that "the scene is laid at Slains, on the coast of Buchan, which is indented in many places by the sea with immense chasms, excavated in many places to a great extent. The author is said to be of the name of Clark, a drunken dominie in that parish—- i.e., Slains— who was also author of a poetical 'Dialogue between the Gardeners and the Tailors,' on the origin of their crafts, and a most curious Latin and English poem, called 'The Buttery College of Slains,' which resembles much in language and style Drummond's (of Hawthornden) 'Polemo-Middinia.'"
The poem last referred to appears to be that printed in Watson's Collection of Scots Poems, part iii., pp. 56 to 69, Edinburgh, 1711. Fac-simile reprint, Glasgow, 1869.
The accuracy of the report as to Clark's authorship of "Clerk Colvill" may well be questioned, as versions of the ballad, or of others similar, appear to be common to all the northern languages. See Professor Child's prefatory note (English and Scottish Ballads, vol. i., p. 298) to a translation of the Danish Elveskud (Abrahamson, vol. i., p. 237), from Jamieson's Popular Ballads and Songs, vol. i., p. 219, where it appears under the title of "Sir Oluf and the Elf-King's Daughter." "Sir Oluf," or, as it is there named, "Sir Olave," may also be found translated in Old Danish Ballads, &c, p. 66. This ballad, and others of the same class, exemplify "a superstition deeply rooted in the belief of all the northern nations—the desire of the elves and water-spirits for the love of Christians."—Professor Child, English and Scottish Ballads, vol. i., p. 192.
A similar Breton ballad, named "Lord Nann and the Korrigan," may be found translated in Keightley's Fairy Mythology, p. 433.— Bonn's Antiquarian Library.
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A Collection of Ancient and Modern Scottish Ballads, Tales, and Songs- John Gilchrist 1815
CLERK COLVILL; Or, THE MERMAID.
A FRAGMENT.
[The inhabitants of our northern and western coasts, at no distant period, firmly believed, that the dangerous shelves around them were tenanted with sea-monsters; the chief of these was the mermaid, who was represented as a beautiful female dragging a fish's tail; so fatal was her appearance considered, that whoever beheld her was supposed to survive the sight but a very short time: this part of the popular superstition is exemplified in the following fragment, where the hero's temerity in approaching and accosting one hastens his death.—The scene of the poem is laid at Slains on the coast of Buchan, which ,is indented by the sea with immense chasms, excavated in many places to a great extent.]
Clerk Colvill and his lusty dame
Were walking in the garden green;
The belt around her stately waist
Cost Clerk Colvill of pounds fifteen.
"O promise me now, Clerk Colvill,
Or it will cost ye muckle strife;"
Ride never by the wells of Slane,
If ye wad live and brook your life."
"Now speak nae mair, my lusty dame, Now speak nae mair of that to me;
Did I ne'er see a fair woman,
But I wad sin with her fair body?"
He's ta'en leave o' his gay lady,
Nought minding what his lady said;
And he's rode by the wells of Slane,
Where washing was a bonny maid.
"Wash on, wash on, my bonny maid,
That wash sae clean your sark of silk
"And weel fa' you, fair gentleman,
Your body's whiter than tlie milk."
Then loud, loud cried the Clerk Colvill,
O my head it pains me sair;
"Then take, then take," the maiden said,
"And frae my sark you'll cut a gare."
Then she's gi'ed him a little bane-knife,
And frae his sark he cut a share; 1
She's ty'd it round his whey-white face,
But ay his head it aked mair.
Then louder cried the Clerk Colvill,
"O sairer, sairer akes my head;"
"And gairer, sairer ever will,"
The maiden cries, "'till you be dead."
Out then he drew his shining blade,
Thinking to stick her where she stood
But she was vanish'd to a fish,
And swam far off a fair mermaid.
"O mother, mother, braid my hair;
My lusty lady, make my bed;
O brother, take my sword and spear,
For I have seen the false mermaid."
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Border Ballads
By Rosamund Marriott Watson
There are many barbarous variants, turning on the adventures of Giles Scrogsins, or Collins. One of these, from a MS. of Mrs. Rider Haggard, is printed here:—
GILES COLLINS AND LADY ANNICE.
Giles Collins said to his own mother,
"Mother, come bind up my head;
And send for the parson of our parish,
For to-morrow I shall be dead.
"And if that I be dead.
As I verily believe I si ml I,
0 bury me not in our churchyard.
Bat under Lady Annice's wall.
'Lady Annice sat at her bower window,
Mending of her night coif,
When passing she saw as lovely a corpse
As ever she saw in her life.
"Set down, set down, ye six tall men,
Set down upon the plain,
That I may kiss those clay cold lips
I ne'er shall kiss again.
"Set down, set down, ye six tall men,
That I may look thereon;
For to-morrow, before the cock it has crow'd,
Giles Collins and I shall be one.
"What had yon at Giles Collins's burying?
Very good ale and wine?
You shall have the same to-morrow night,
Much about the same time."
Giles Collins died upon the eve,
This fair lady on the morrow;
Thus may you all now very well know
This couple died for sorrow.
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The story-teller; or, Table-book of popular literature. Ed. by R. Bell, 1843 (Halliwell's version)
GILES COLLINS.
In this match of mixed humour and pathos, we have one of the old nursery rhymes of England, curious for its playful satire upon a class of ballads, which, at the time of its composition, some centuries past, must have been in great vogue. We are nowadays accustomed to parodies of this kind; but the singularity of this parody lies in its age. It is worth knowing that die old versifiers sometimes had a fling at their own peculiarities, and it is worth while to see how they turned them into familiar jokes for the nursery. The most amusing touch in this piece is the conceit with which it concludes, an obvious skit upon the usual miracle, sacred from time immemorial to the graves of lovers.
We are indebted for this ballad to a volume of Nursery Rhymes, published by the Percy Society, under the able editorship of Mr. Halliwell.
THE BALLAD OF GILES COLLINS.
Giles Collins he said to his old mother,
"Mother, come bind up my head;
And send to the parson of our parish,
For to-morrow I shall be dead, dead,
For to-morrow I shall be dead."
His mother she made him some water-gruel,
And stirred it round with a spoon;
Giles Collins he ate up his water-gruel,
And died before 'twas noon,
And died before 'twas noon.
Lady Anna was sitting at her window,
friending her night robe and coif;
She saw the very prettiest corpse,
She'd seen in all her life, life,
She'd seen in all her life.
"What bear ye there, ye six strong men,
Upon your shoulders so high?"
"We bear the body of Giles Collins,
Who for love of you did die, die,
Who for love of you did die."
"Set him down! set him down!" Lady Anna she cried,
"On the grass that grows so green;
To-morrow before the clock strikes ten,
My body shall lie by his'n, his'n,
My body shall lie by his'n."
Lady Anna was buried in the east,
Giles Collins was buried in the west;
There grew a lily from Giles Collins,
That touch'd Lady Anna's breast, breast,
That touch'd Lady Anna's breast.
There blew a cold north-easterly wind,
And cut this lily in twain;
Which never there was seen before,
And it never will again, again,
And it never will again.
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Ballads and Songs of the Peasantry of England Taken Down from Oral ...1857
edited by Robert Bell, James Henry Dixon
LADY ALICE.
[THIS old ballad is regularly published by the stall printers. The termination resembles that of Lord Lovel and other ballads. See Early Ballads, Ann. Ed. p. 134. An imperfect traditional copy was printed in Notes and Queries^]
T ADY ALICE was sitting in her bower window,
-*-* At midnight mending her quoif;
And there she saw as fine a corpse
As ever she saw in her life.
'What bear ye, what bear ye, ye six men tall?
What bear ye on your shoulders ¥ 'We bear the corpse of Giles Collins,
An old and true lover of yours.'
'O, lay him down gently, ye six men tall,
All on the grass so green,
And to-morrow when the sun goes down,
Lady Alice a corpse shall be seen.
'And bury me in Saint Mary's Church,
All for my love so true;
And make me a garland of marjoram,
And of lemon thyme, and rue.'
Giles Collins was buried all in the east,
Lady Alice all in the west;
And the roses that grew on Giles Collins's grave,
They reached Lady Alice's breast.
The priest of the parish he chanced to pass,
And he severed those roses in twain.
Sure never were seen such true lovers before,
Nor e'er will there be again.