English Versions 106. Famous Flower of Serving-Men
CONTENTS:
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THE BORDER WIDOW'S LAMENT
(Oh ono chrio - Border Widow's Lament)
On the murder of Glencoe Febr 1692
Was not I a weary May, ohon ochie ho ohno ochie ho
A widow on my bridle day, ohon etc.
That on that dark and fatal night ('ohon--' interlaced throughout)
They brake my bower and slew my Knight
Just in my soft and Longing arms
Where I believ'd him safe from harms
They perced his senser[?] gentle breast
And Left me with sad grief opprest
And was but I a Weary wight
A Maid, wife, widow all in a night
And after that my knight was slain
I could no longer there remain
With a fair suit of his yellow hair
Which bound my heart for ever mare
I cut my hair and chang'd my name
From fair Alice to sweet William
No soft tongued youth nor flattering swain
Shall e're unloose that knot again
But through this wood or world I'le roam
To seek the joyes I lost at home O hon etc..
This earliest (unpublished) text here is from NLS MS 23.3.24. The manuscript, c 1715, is entitled "A Choice Collection of Several Scots Miscellanie POEMS and songs," and appears to be a manuscript for a work never published. The whole manuscript was
carefully printed by hand, but there as are still letters here and there that are difficult to decipher.
F. J. Child, No. 106, prints three later versions of our song here, including, NO. 89, in his prefactory comments to "The Famous Flower of Serving Men." The latter is Laurence Price's ballad entered in the Stationers' Register on July 14, 1656. (Euing, No. 111, is original issue with Price's initials.) Price's ballad was undoubtably based on an even earlier tale, but not, as has been speculated, on that above. The heading of the text here confirms the note by Robert Burns (in the interleaved Scots Musical Museum) of the statement by Dr. Blacklock that the song was on the Glencoe massacre (James Dick, by Robert Burns, 1908, reprint, 1962)
The tune in the SMM was given earlier as "Oh Onochie O", in J. Oswald's, No.19, Edinburgh, 1740. Same, "Oh Onochie O," is in J. Oswald's Companion, book 9, p. 4 (c 1758). Apparently the first time a verse of the song was set to music was in Vol. I, page 22, of D. Corri's Scots Songs, Edinburgh, n.d. (1783). The tune and the single verse given there is here annexed. Corri's statement is that his tune is Irish. The tune "Glencoe" in Collection, No.677 is for "McDonald's Return to Glencoe". Cf. also SMM No. 498, "The Highland widow's lament" WBO
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The Highland Widow's Lament
Robert Burns text
Oh, I am come to the low countrie,
Och on, och on, och rie!
Without a penny in my purse,
To buy a meal to me.
It was na sae in the Highland hills,
Och on, och on, och rie!
Nae woman in the country wide
Sae happy was as me.
For then I had a score o' kye,
Och on, och on, och rie!
Feeding on yon hills so high,
And giving milk to me.
And there I had threescore o' yowes,
Och on, och on, och rie!
Skipping on yon bonnie knowes,
And casting woo' to me.
I was the happiest of a' the clan,
Sair, sair may I repine;
For Donald was the brawest man,
And Donald he was mine.
Till Charlie Stuart cam' at last,
Sae far to set us free;
My Donald's arm was wanted then
For Scotland and for me.
Their waefu' fate what need I tell?
Right to the wrang did yield:
My Donald and his country fell
Upon Colloden-field.
Och on, O Donald O!
Och on, och on, och rie!
Nae woman in the warld wide
Sae wretched now as me.
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Reliques of ancient English poetry, by T. Percy, ed. by H. B. Wheatley, Volume 3
XVII. THE LADY TURNED SERVING-MAN
[It is printed in the Collection of Old Ballads (i. 216) without the improvements. After verse 56 the first person is changed to the third in the original, but Percy altered this and made the first person run on throughout. Kinloch (Ancient Scottish Ballads, p. 95) gives a very mutilated and varied version of this ballad in the Scottish dress under the title of Sweet Willie, which was taken down from the recitation of an old woman in Lanark. There is a similar story in Swedish and Danish.]
The Lady turned Serving-Man.
This is given from a written copy, containing some improvements (perhaps modern ones) upon the popular ballad, intitled, "The famous Flower of Serving-men: or the Lady turned Serving-man."
You beauteous ladyes, great and small,
I write unto you one and all,
Whereby that you may understand
What I have suffered in the land.
I was by birth a lady faire,
An ancient barons only heire,
And when my good old father dyed,
Then I became a young knightes bride.
And there my love built me a bower,
Bedeck'd with many a fragrant flower;
A braver bower you ne'er did see
Then my true-love did build for mee.
And there I livde a ladye gay,
Till fortune wrought our loves decay;
For there came foes so fierce a band,
That soon they over-run the land.
They came upon us in the night,
And brent my bower, and slew my knight;
And trembling hid in mans array,
I scant with life escap'd away.
In the midst of this extremitie,
My servants all did from me flee:
Thus was I left myself alone,
With heart more cold than any stone.
Yet though my heart was full of care,
Heaven would not suffer me to dispaire,
Wherefore in haste I chang'd my name
From faire Elise, to sweet Williame:
And therewithall I cut my haire,
Resolv'd my man's attire to weare;
And in my beaver, hose and band,
I travell'd far through many a land.
At length all wearied with my toil,
I sate me downe to rest awhile;
My heart it was so fill'd with woe,
That downe my cheeke the teares did flow.
It chanc'd the king of that same place
With all his lords a hunting was,
And seeing me weepe, upon the same
Askt who I was, and whence I came.
Then to his grace I did replye,
"I am a Poore and friendlesse boye,
Though nobly borne, nowe forc'd to bee
A serving-man of lowe degree."
"Stand up, faire youth," the king reply'd,
"For thee a service I'll provyde:
But tell me first what thou canst do;
Thou shalt be fitted thereunto.
"Wilt thou be usher of my hall,
To wait upon my nobles all?
Or wilt be taster of my wine,
To 'tend on me when I shall dine?
"Or wilt thou be my chamberlaine,
About my person to remaine?
Or wilt thou be one of my guard,
And I will give thee great reward?
"Chuse, gentle youth, said he, thy place."
Then I reply'd, "If it please your grace
To shew such favour unto mee,
Your chamberlaine I faine would bee."
The king then smiling gave consent,
And straitwaye to his court I went;
Where I behavde so faithfullle,
That hee great favour showd to mee.
Now marke what fortune did provide;
The king he would a hunting ride
With all his lords and noble traine,
Sweet William must at home remaine.
Thus being left alone behind,
My former state came in my mind:
I wept to see my mans array;
No longer now a ladye gay.
And meeting with a ladyes vest,
Within the same myself I drest;
With silken robes, and jewels rare,
I deckt me, as a ladye faire:
And taking up a lute straitwaye,
Upon the same I strove to play;
And sweetly to the same did sing,
As made both hall and chamber ring.
"My father was as brave a lord,
As ever Europe might afford;
My mother was a lady bright;
My husband was a valiant knight:
"And I myself a ladye gay,
Bedeckt with gorgeous rich array;
The happiest lady in the land
Had not more pleasure at command.
"I had my musicke every day
Harmonious lessons for to play;
I had my virgins fair and free
Continually to wait on mee.
"But now, alas! my husband's dead,
And all my friends are from me fled,
My former days are past and gone,
And I am now a serving-man."
And fetching many a tender sigh,
As thinking no one then was nigh,
In pensive mood I lay me lowe,
My heart was full, the tears did flowe.
The king, who had a huntinge gone,
Grewe weary of his sport anone,
And leaving all his gallant traine,
Turn'd on the sudden home againe:
And when he reach'd his statelye tower,
Hearing one sing within his bower,
He stopt to listen, and to see
Who sung there so melodiouslie.
Thus heard he everye word I sed,
And saw the pearlye teares I shed,
And found to his amazement there,
Sweete William was a ladye faire.
Then stepping in, "Fair ladye, rise,
And dry," said he, "those lovely eyes,
For I have heard thy mournful tale,
The which shall turne to thy availe."
A crimson dye my face orespred,
I blusht for shame, and hung my head,
To find my sex and story knowne,
When as I thought I was alone.
But to be briefe, his Royal Grace
Grewe so enamour'd of my face,
The richest gifts he proffered mee,
His mistress if that I would bee.
"Ah! no, my liege, I firmlye sayd,
I'll rather in my grave be layd,
And though Your Grace hath won my heart,
I ne'er will act soe base a part."
"Faire ladye, pardon me, sayd hee,
Thy virtue shall rewarded bee,
And since it is soe fairly tryde
Thou shalt become my royal bride."
Then strait to end his amorous strife,
He tooke sweet William to his wife.
The like before was never seene,
A serving-man became a queene.
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From ANCIENT BALLADS, Flanders 1963.
A. Copied literatim et punctatim by H.H. F. from a compilation of four hundred pages of numbered issues of The
Charms of Melody: or Siren Medley, printed by J. & J. Carrick, Bachelor's-Walk, Dublin. The watermark on the title
page reads GREAT NEWTON, with the date 1818. Copiesare available at the Boston Athenaeum; the John Hoy Library at Brown Uniuersity (60 pages, dated 1824, beginning with Volume I,page 1); and at the Library of Congress. H. H. F., Collector; August 1, 1958
The Lady turn'd Serving-man.
YOU beauteous ladies, great and small,
I write unto you one and all,
Whereby that you may understand
What I have suffer'd in this land.
I was by birth a lady fair,
An ancient baron's only heir,
And when my good old father dy'd,
Then I became a young knight's bride.
And then my love built me a bower,
Bedeck'd with many a fragrant flower;