1 10 639 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/ff370ed0dfac18091c39429d0a0b8efa.jpg 9eb1fdac8b87bc5076e3412099488f34 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Illustration on title-page of a soldier with his face turned to right, sitting on a chair and holding a sword. https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/a6058a463770edfa42220f626f83834b.pdf 99e5e193bf8e7bb53ad0134b377142af PDF Text Text 5^XXX>C>C>0<>C<::<>C-C^>C>c>0'0<>: NARRATIVE OF T H E BATTLES DRUMCLOG, BOTHWELL BRIDGE. GLASGOW PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS, �q aviti g " • S W d T T h a jf H T t r iQ O O J WIIJJiG OV» • - . B e a u z s j : : r w H T o a 71T i J 6 § .mi m • *' l'v* ki ' - T - - £ I • <*? . • v.: 5l * i ^ ^ {j v 2 k -V ." : >T f V • •WO.KAJO • i - ; ' iiri « Kim >GOC<X>00QQa90C*X %I - f �THK BATTLE OF DRUMCLOG. •• thfe following Account of the Battles of Drumclog and Bothwell Bridge, is taken from an American Newspaper, entitled the 4 National Gazette.' It is written by the Laird of Torfoot, an officer in the Presbyterian army, whose estate is at this day in the possession of his lineal descendants of the fifth generafkm. " It was a fair Sabbath morning, 1st Jane 1679, that an assembly of the Covenanters sat down on the heathy mountains of Drumclog. W e had assembled not to fight, but to worship the God of our fathers. W e were far from the tumult of cities.—The long dark heath waved around us; and we disturbed no living creatures, saving the pees-weep and the heather-cock. As usual, we had come armed. I t was for self-defence. For desperate and ferocious bands made bloody raids through the country, and, pretending to put down treason, they waged war against religion and morals. They spread ruin and havoc over the face of bleeding Scotland. The venerable Douglas had commenced the solemnities of the day. He was expatiating on the execrable evils of tyranny. Our souls were on fire at the rememberance of our country's sufferings and the wrongs of the church. In this moment of intense feeling, our watchman posted on the neighbouring heights fired his carabine and ran towards the congregation. He announced the approach of the enemy. W e raised our eyes to the minister, " I have done," said Douglas with his usual firmness-~You have got the theory,—now for the �4 practice; you know your duty; self-defence is always lawful. But the enemy approaches," He raised his eyes to heaven and uttered a prayer—brief and emphatic— like the prayer of Richard Cameron, " Lord, spare the green, and take the ripe." The officers collected their mm, and placed themselves each at the head of those of his own district. Sit Robert Hamilton placed the foot in the centre, in three ranks. A company of horse, well armed and mounted, was placed on the left; and a small sqnadron also on the left. These were drawn back, and they occupied the more solid ground; as well with a view to have a more solid footing, as to arrest any flanking party that might take them on the wings. A deep morass lay between us and the ground of the enemy. Our aged men, our females and children retired ; but they retired slowly4 They had the hearts and the courage of the female and children in those days of intense religious feeling and of suffering. They manefested more concern for the fate of relatives, for the fate of the church than for their own personal safety. As Claverhouse descended the opposite mountain, they retired to the rising ground in the rear of our host. The aged men walked with their bonnets in hand. Their long grey hairs waving to the breeze. They sang a cheering psalm. The music was that of the well-known tune of " The Martyrs and the sentiment breathed defiance.—The music floated down on the wind,—our men gave them three cheers as they fell into their ranks. Never did I witness such animation in the looks of men. For me, my spouse and my little children were in the rear. M y native plains, and the W i s of my father, far below, in the deal of Aven, were in full view from the heights which we occupied. M y country seemed to raise her voice—the bleeding church seemed to wail aloud. * And these,' I said, as Clavers and his troops winded slowly down the dark mountain's side, ' these are the unworthy slaves, and bloody executioners, by which the tyrant completes our miseries,' �5 Hamilton here displayed the hero. His portly figure was seen hastening from rank to rank. He inspiied courage into our raw and undisciplined troops. The brave Hacks tone, and Hall of Haughhead, stood at the head of the foot, and re-echoed the sentiments of theii Chief. Burley and Cleland had inflamed the minds of the horsemen on the left to a noble enthusiasm. My small troop on the right needed no exhortation; we were a band of brothers, resolved to conquer or fall. The trumpet of Clavers sounded a loud note of defiance —thekettle drum mixed its tumultuous roll—they halted —they made a long pause. W e could see an officer with four file, conducting 15 persons from the ranks, to a knoll on their left. I could perceive one in black: it was my friend King, the Chaplain at Lord Cardross, (Let who had been taken by Clavers at Hamilton. them be shot through the head,' said Clavers, in his usual dry way, ' if they should offer to run away.' W e could see him view our position with great care. His officers came around him. W e soon learned that he wished to treat with us. He never betrayed symptoms of mercy or of justice, nor offered terms of reconciliation, unless when he dreaded that he had met his match; and, even then, it was only a manoeuvre to gain time 01 to deceive. His flag approached the edge of the bog. Sir Robert held a flag sacred; had it been borne by Clavers himself he had honoured it. He demanded the purpose for which he came. ' I come,' said he, ' in the name of his sacred Majesty, and of Colonel Graham, to offer you a pardon, on condition that you lay down your arms, and deliver up your ringleaders.'—' Tell your officer,' said Sir Robert, ' that we are fully aware of the deception he practices. He is not clothed with any powers to treat, nor was he sent out to treat with us, and attempt reconciliation. The Government against whom we have risen, refuses to redress our grievances, or to restore to us our liberties. Had the tyrant wished to render us justice, he had riot sent by the hand of such a ferocious assassin as Claverhouse. Let him, however. �6 show his powers, aud we refuse not to treat; and we ,haU lay down our arms to treat, provided that he also lay down his. Thou hast my answer.*—' It is a perfectly hopeless case,' said Burley, while he called after Ihe flag-bearer.—f Let me add one word by your leave, General. Get thee up to that bloody dragoon, Clavers, i, ;d tell him, that we will spare his life, and the lives of iis troops, on condition that he, your Clavers, lay down ns arms, and the arms of these troops. W e will do nore, as we have no prisoners on these wild mountains, vVci will even let him go on his parole, on condition that swear never to lift arms against the religion and the ''berties of his country. A loud burst of applause re« echoed from the ranks; and after a long pause in deep aiience, the army sung the following verses of a psalm:— The arrows of the bow he brake : The shield, the sword, the war. More glorious thou than hills of prey, More excellent art far. 4 Those that were stout of heart are spoil'a, They sleep their sleep outright; And none of these their hands did find, That were the men of might. When the report was made to Claverhouse, he gave word with a savage ferocity, ' Their blood be on their own heads. Be—no quarter—the word this day.' His fierce dragoons raised a yell, and 4 N o quarter,' re-echoed f?om rank to rank, while they galloped down the mountain side. It is stated, that Burleigh was heard to say, 1 Then be it so, even let there be i no quarter'—at least in my wing of the host. So God send me a meeting,' cried he aloud, ' with that chief under the white plume. — M y country would bless my memory, could my sword give his villainous carcase to the crows. Our raw troops beheld with firmness the approach of the foemen; and at the moment when the enemy halted to fire, the whole of our foot dropped on the heatb. �f Mot a man was seen down when the order was given to rise, and return the fire. The first flank fired, then kneeling down while the second fired. They made each bullet tell. As often as the lazy rolling smoke was carried over the enemy's head, a shower of bullets fell on his ranks. Many a gallant man tumbled on the heath. The fire was incessant. It resembled one blazing sheet of fiame, for several minutes, along the line of the Covenanters. Clavers attempted to cross the morass, and break our centre. ' Spearmen I to the front,'—I could hear the deep-toned voice of Hamilton say, 6 Kneel^ and place your spears to receive the enemy's cavalry; and you, my gallant fellows lire—God and our country is our word.'—Our officers flew from rank to rank. Not a peasant gave way that day. As the smoke rolled off, we could see Clavers urging 011 his men with the violence of despair. His troops fell in heaps around him, and still the gaps were filled up. A galled trooper would occasionally flinch; but ere he could turn or flee, the sword of Clavers was waving over his head. I could bee him in his fury, strike both man and horse. In the fearful carnage he himself sometimes reeled. He would stop short in the midst of a movement, then contradict his own orders, and strike the man, because he could not comprehend his meaning. He orueied the flanking parties to take us on our right and left. " In the name of G o d , " cried he, 4 ' cross the bog, and charge them on the flanks till W€ get over the morass. If this fail we are lost." It now fell to my lot to come into action.—HitherU we had fired only some distant shot. A gallant officer led his band down to the borders of the swamp, in search of a proper place to cross. W e threw ourselves before him, a severe firing commenced. M y gallant men fired with great steadiness. W e could see many tumbling from their saddles. Not content with repelling the foemen, we found an opportunity to cross, and attack thtiu sword in hand. The Captain, whose name I afteiwards ascertained tp be Arrol, threw himself into my path. l e �8 the first shock, 1 discharged my pistols. His 6udden start in the saddle, told me that one of them had taken effect. With one of the tremendous oaths of Charles I I . he closed with me. He fired his steel pistol. I was in front of him ; — m y sword glanced on the weapon, and gave a direction to the bullet, which saved my life. By this time my men had driven the enemy before them, and had left the ground clear for the single combat. As he made a lounge at my breast, I turned his sword aside, by one of those sweeping blows, which are rather the dictate of a kind of instinct of self-defence, than a movement of art.—As our strokes redoubled, my antagonist's dark features put on a look of deep and settled ferocity. N o man who has not encountered the steel of his enemy, in the field of battle, can conceive the looks and the manner of the warrior, in the moments of his intense feelings. May I never witness them again ! W e fought in silence. M y stroke fell on his left shoulder; it cut the belt of his carabine, which fell to the ground. His blow cut me to the rib, glanced along the bone, and "id me also of the weight of my carabine. He had now advanced too near me to be struck with the sword. I grasped him by the collar. I pushed him backwards ; and, with an entangled blow of my Ferrara, I struck him across his throat. It cut only the strap of his headpiece, and it fell off. With a sudden spring, lie seized me by the sword belt. Our horses reared, and we both came to the ground. W e rolled on the heath in deadly conflict. It was in this situation of matters, that my brave fellows had returned from the rout of the flanking party, to look after their commander. One of them was actually rushing on my antagonist, when I called on him to retire. W e started to our feet. Each grasped his sword. W e closed in conflict again. After parrying strokes of mine enemy, which indicated a hellish ferocity* I told him, my object was to take him prisoner ; that sooner than kill him, I should order ipy men to seize him. Sooner let my soul be brandered on my ribs in hell," sflid he, " than be captured by a Whiginore. ' No �9 quarter' Is the word of my Colonel, and my woid. h a v e at the W h i g — I dare the whole of you to the c o m b a t . " — " Leave the mad man to me—leave the field instantly," said I to my party, whom I could hardly restrain. M y sword fell on his left shoulder.— His sword dropped from his hand.—I lowered my sword, and offered him his life. i No quarter,' said he, with a shriek of despair. He snatched his sword, which I held in my hand, and made a lounge at my breast. I parried his blows till he was nearly exhausted ; but, gathering up his huge limbs, he put forth all his energy in a thrust at my heart.—My Andro Ferrara received it, so as to weaken its deadly force ; but it made a deep cut. Though I was faint with loss of blood, I left him no time for another blow. M y sword glanced on his shoulder, cut through his buff coat, and skin, and flesh ; swept through his jaw, and laid open his throat from ear to ear. The fire of his ferocious eye was quenched in a moment. He reeled, and falling with a terrible clash, he poure! out his soul with a torrent of blood on the heath. I sunk down, insensible for a moment. M y faithful men, who never lost sight of me, raised me up. In the fierce combat, the soldier suffers most from thirst. I stooped down to fill my helmet with the water which oozed through the morass. It was deeply tinged with human blood, which flowed in the conflict above me. I started back with horror; and Gawn Witherspoon bringing up my steed, we set forward in the tumult of the battle. All this while, the storm of war had raged on our left. Cleland and the fierce Burley had charged the strong company sent to flank them. These officers permitted me to cross the swamp, then, charged them with a terrible shout. ' No quarter,' cried the dragoons. Be no quarter to you, then, ye murderous loons,' cried Burley ; and at one blow he cut their leader through the steel cap, and scattered his brains on his followers. His every blow overthrew a foeman. Their whole forces were now brought up, and they drove the dragoons of �10 CkTers into the swamp. They rolled over each other. All stuck fast. The Covenanters dismounted, and fought on foot. They left not one man to bear the tidings to their Colonel. The firing of the platoons had long ago ceased, and the dreadfid work of death was carried on by the sword. A t this moment, a trumpet was heard in the rear of our army. There was an awful pause, all looked up. It was only the gallant Captain Nesbit, and his guide, YVoodburn of Mains ; he had no reinforcements for us, but himself was a host. With a loud huzza, and flourish of his sword, he placed himself by the side of Burley, and cried, 'jump the ditch, and charge the enemy'. He and Burley struggled through the marsh. The men followed as they could, They formed and marched on the enemy's right flank. A t this instant, Hamilton and Hackstone brought forward the whole line of infantry in front. ' God and our Country' re-echoed from all the ranks—' No quarters' said the fierce squadrons of Clavers—Here commenced a bloody scene. I seized the opportunity this moment offered to me of making a movement to the left of the enemy to save my friend King and the other prisoners.—We came in time to save tiiem. Our sword speedily severed the ropes which tyranny had bound on the arms of the men. The weapons of the fallen foe supplied what was lacking of arms ; and with great vigour we moved forward to charge the enemy on the lef t flank. Claverhouse formed a hollow square—himself in the centre ; his men fought gallantly ; they did all that soldiers could do in their situation. Wherever a gap was made, Clavers thrust the men forward, and speedily filled it up. Three times he rolled headlong on the heath as he hastened from rank to rank, and as oftei 1 ' band thinned his ranks. distinctly saw the features and shape of this far-famed man. He was small of stature, and not well formed. His ajipprWOT *9ng in proportion to his legs ; h* had a �11 complexion unusually dark ; his features were not lighted up with sprightliness, as some fabulously reported ; they geemed gloomy as hell: his cheeks were lank and deeply furrowed ; his eye-brows were drawn down and gatherer! into a kind of knot at their junctions, and thrown up at their extremeties ; they had, in short, the strong expression given by our painters to those on the face ol Judas Iscariot, his eyes were hollow, they had not the lustre of genius nor the fire of vivacity ; they were lighted up by that dark fire of wrath which is kindled and fanned by an internal anxiety, and conciousness of criminal deeds ; his irregular and large teeth were pre sented through a smile, which was very unnatural 011 his set of features ; his mouth seemed to be unusually large from the extremeties being drawn backward and downward—as if in the intense application to something cruel and disgusting ; in short, his upper teeth projected over his under lip, and on the whole, presented to my view the mouth on the image of the Emperor Julian the Apostate.—In one of his rapid courses past us, my sword could only shear off his white plumb and a fragment of his buff coat. In a moment he was at the othei side of the square. Our officers eagerly sought a meeting with him. ' He has the proof of lead,' cried some of our mei^ — ' Take the cold steel or a piece of silvwr.* ' N o , ' cried Burley, ' It is his rapid movement on that fine charger that bids defiance to any thing like an r.iiii in the tumult of the bloody fray. I could sooner shoot ten heather cocks on the wing, than one flying Clavers.' A t that moment Burley, whose eye watched his antagonist, pushed into the hollow square. But Burley was too impatient. His blow wras levelled at him before he came within its reach. His heavy sword descended on the head of Clavers' horse and felled him to the ground. —Burley's men rushed pell-mell on the fallen Clave* but his faithful dragoons threw themselves upon thei/i, and by their overpowering force drove Burley back. Clavers was in an instant on a fresh steed. His buglenan recalled the party who were driving back the flank- �12 ing party of Burley. He collected his whole troops to make his last and desperate attack- -He charged our infantry with such force, that they began to reel. It was only for a moment. The gallant Hamilton snatched the white flag of the Covenant, and placed himself in tfie fore front of the battle. Our men shouted ' God end our countryand rallied under the flag. They fought like heroes. Clavers fought no less bravely. His blows were aimed at our officers. His steel fell on the helmet of Hackstone, whose sword was entangled in the body of a fierce dragoon, who had just wounded him. He wTas born by his men into the rear. I directed my men on Clavers. ' Victory or death,' was their reply to me. Clavers received us. He stiuck a desperate blow at me as he raised himself, with all his force, in the saddle. M y steel cap resisted it. The second stroke I received on my Ferrara and bis steel was shivered to pieces. W e rushed headlong on each other. His pistol missed fire—it had been soaked in blood. Mine took effect. But the wound was not deadly. Our horses reared. W e rolled on the ground. In vain we sought to grasp each other. In the tiiclcy men and horse tumbled on us. W e were for a few moments buried under our men, whose eagerness to save the respective officers brought them in multitudes down upon us. By the aid of my faithful man Gawn, I had extricated myself from my fallen horse ; and we were rushing on the bloody Clavers, when we were again literally buried under a mass of men ; for Hamilton had by this time brought up his whole line, and he hnd planted his standard where we and Clavers were rolling on the heath. Our men gave three cheers and h ove in the troops of Clavers. Here I was born along with the moving mass of men ; and, almost suffocated and faint with the loss of blood, I knew nothing more till I opened my eye 011 my faithful attendant. H e had dragged me from the very grasp of the enemy, and had borne me into the rear, and was bathing my temples with water. We speedily regained our friends ; and �13 what a spectacle presented itself!—It seemed that I beheld an immense moving mass heaped up togetiter in the greatest confusion.—Some shrieking, some groaning, some shouted, horses neighed and pranced, swords rung on the steel helmets. I placed around me a few of my hardy men, and we rushed into the thickest of the enemy in search of Clavers, but it was in vain. A t that instant, his trumpet sounded the loud notes of retreat; and we saw on a knoll Clavers borne away by his men. H e threw himself on a horse, and without sword, without helmet, he fled in the first ranks of their retreating host. His troops galloped up the hill in the utmost confusion. M y little line closed with that of Burleys, and took a number of prisoners. Our main body pursued the enemy two miles, and strewed the ground with men and horses. I could see the bare-headed Clavers in front of his men, kicking and struggling up the steep sides of Calder hill. He halted only a moment on the top to look behind him, then plunged his rowels into his horse, and darted forward ; nor did he recover from his panic till he found himself in the city of Glasgow. ' And, my children,' the Laird would say, after he had told the adventures of this bloody day, 6 1 visited the field of battle next day ; I shall never forget the sight. Men and horses lay in their gory beds. I turned away from the horrible spectacle. I passed by the spot where God saved my life in the single combat, and where the unhappy Captain Arrol fell, I observed that, in the subsequent fray, the body had been trampled on by a horse, and his bowels were poured out. Thus, my children, the defence of our lives, and the regaining oi our liberty and religion, has subjected us to severe trials. Arid how great must be the love of liberty, when it carries men forward, under the impulse of self-defence, to witness the most disgusting spectacles, and to encounter the most cruel hardships of war 1' �14 i A T T L E OF B O T H W E L L BRIDGE. * Hca! Tlctojacet pietas." * * * After the ranks of the patriotic Whigs were broken by overwhelming forces, and while Dalzell and Clavers swept the south and wTest of Scotland like the blast of the desert, breathing pestilence and death—the individual wanderers betook themselves to the caves and fastnesses of their rugged country. This was their situation chiefly from A . D . 1680, to the Revolution. The Laird spent his days in seclusion ; but still he fearlessly attended the weekly assemblies in the fields, for the worship of Almighty God. What had he to fear ? — H i s estate had been confiscated. His wife arid babes stript by the life guards of the last remnant of earthly comfort which they could take away; and himself doomed as an outlaw, to be executed by the military assassins when taken. He became reckless of the world. ' I have lived,' said he in anguish, ( t o see a Prince, twice of his own choice, take the oath of the covenants to support religion, and the fundamental laws of the land. I have lived to see that Prince turn traitor to his country, and, wTith unblushing impiety order these Covenants to be burned by the hands of the executioner. I have seen him subvert the liberty of my country, both civil and religious.—I have seen him erect a bloody inquisition. The priest imposed on us by tyranny, instead of wooing us over by the loveliness of religion, have thrown off the bowels of mercy. They occupy seats in the bloody Council. They stimulate the cruelties of Lauderdale, M'Kenzie and York. Their hands are dipt in blood to the wrests. This Council will not permit us to live in peace, Our property they confiscate. �15 Our houses they convert into barracks. They drag free men into chains. They bring no witnesses of our guilt.—They invent new tortures to convert us. They employ the thumb-screws and bootkins. If we are silent they condemn us. If we confess our Christian creed, they doom us to the gibbet. Not only our sentence, but the manner of our execution is fixed before our trial. Clavers is our judge ; his dragoons are our executioners ; and these savages do still continue to employ even the sagacity of blood hounds to hunt us d o w n . — M y soul turns away from these loathsome spectacles* A t this moment his brother John entered, with looks which betrayed unusual anxiety. * M y brother,' said he, ' a trooper advances at full speed, and he is followed iby a dark column. W e have not even time to fly.— The mind of the laird like those of the rest of the wanJere is, always brightened up at the approach of danger. ' L e t us reconnoiter,' said he, ' w h a t do I see, but one trooper. And that motely crowd is but a rabble—not a troop. That trooper is not of Clavers' band ; nor does he belong to Douglas—nor to Ingles—nor to St radian's dragoons. He waves a small flag. I can discover the scarlet and blue colour of the Covenanters flag Ha ! welcome you, John Howie of Lochgoin— But what news ?—Lives our country ? Lives the good old cause P—* Glorious news,' exclaimed Howie, ' Scotland for ever ! She is free. The tyrant James has abdicated. The Stuarts are banished by an indignant nation, Orange triumphs, our wounds are binding up.—Huzza! Scotland, and King William and the Covenant for ever ! The Laird made no reply. He laid his steel cap on the ground, and threw himself on his knees; he uttered a brief prayer, in which this was the close : 6 M y bleeding country, and thy wailing kirk, and my brethren ii the furnace, have come in remembrance before thee. For ever lauded be thy name.'—Hasten to the meeting at Lesmahagow, Our friends behind me, you see, hare �16 already set o u t / said Howie. And he set out with enthusiastic ardour to spread the news. 6 These news,' said the Laird, after along pause while his eyes followed the courser over the plains of Aven— ' these news are to me as life from the dead. I have a mind to meet my old friends at Lesmahagow. And then, when serious business is despatched, we can take Both well field in our return. It will yield me at least a melancholy pleasure to visit the spot where we fought, I trust, our last battle against the enemies of our country, and of the good old cause. Serious matters of church and state having been discussed at the public meeting, the brothers found themselves, on the fourth day, on the battle ground of Bothwell. ' On that moor,' said the Laird, after a long silence •—and without being conscious of it, he had, by a kind of instinct, natural enough to a soldier, drawTn his sword, and was pointing with i t — ' On that moor the enemy first formed under Monmouth. There, on the right, Clavers led on the life-guards, breathing fury, and resolute to wipe off the disgrace of the affair of Drumclog. Dalzell formed his men on that knoll. Lord Livingstone led the van of the foeinen. W e had taken care to have Bothwell Bridge strongly secured by a barricade, and our little battery of cannon was planted on the spot below us, in order to sweep the bridge. And we did rake it The foemen's blood streamed there. Again and pgain the troops of the tyrant marched on, and our cannon annihilated their columns. Sir Robert Hamilton was our Commander-in-Chief.—The gallant general Hackston stood on that spot with his brave men. Along the river, and above the bridge, Burley's foot and captain Nisbet's dragoons were stationed. For one hour we kept the enemy in check ; they were defeated in every attempt to cross the Clyde. Livingstone sent another strong column to storm the bridge. I shall never forget the effect of one fire from our battery, whers my men stood. W e saw the line of the foe advance in �1? all the military glory of brave and beautiful men, the horses pranced—the armour gleamed. In one moment nothing was seen but a shocking mass of mortality. Human limbs, and the bodies and limbs of horses were mingled in one huge heap, or blown to a great distance. Another column attempted to cross above the bridge. Some threw themselves into the current. One welldirected fire from Burley's troops threw them into disorder, and drove them back. Meantime, while we were thus warmly engaged, Hamilton was labouring to bring down the different divisions of our main body into action; but in vain he called on Colonel Cleland's troop —in vain he ordered Henderson's to fall in—in vain he called on Colonel Fleming's. Hackstone flew from troop to troop—all was confusion ; in vain he besought, he intreated, he threatened. Our disputes and fiery misguided zeal, my brother, contracted a deep and deadly guilt that day. The Whig turned his arm in fierce heat that day against his own vitals. Our Chaplains, Cargil and King, and Kid> and Douglas, interposed again and again, Cargil mounted the pulpit; he preached concord ; he called aloud for mutual forbearance. ' Behold the banners of the enemy,' cried he, 6 hear ye not the fire of the foe, and of our brethren? Our brothers and fathers are fallen beneath their sword. Hasten to their aid. See the flag of the Covenant. See the motto in letters of gold—' Christ's Crown and the Covenant.' Hear the wailings of the bleeding Kirk. Banish discord. And let us, as a band of brothers present a bold front to the foeman—Follow me all ye who love your country and the Covenant. I go to die in the fore-front of the battle. All the ministers and officers followed him, amidst a flourish of trumpets ; but the great body remained to listen to the harangues of the factious.—We sent again and again for ammunition. M y men were at the last round. Treachery, or a fatal error, had sent a barrel of raisins instead of powder. M y heart sunk within me while I beheld the despair on the faces of my brave fellows, as I struck �18 out the head of the vessel. Hackstone called his officers to him. W e threw ourselves around him.— i What must be done ? ' said he in an agony of despair. i Conquer or die,' we said, as if with one voice. ' W e have our swords yet. Lead back the men to their places and let the ensign bear down the blue and scarlet colours. Our God and our country be the word.* Hackstone rushed forward. W e ran to our respective corps — w e cheered our men but they were languid and disspirited. Their ammunition was nearly expended, and they seemed anxious to husband what remained. They fought only with their carabines. The cannons could no more be loaded. The enemy soon perceived this. W e saw a troop of horse approach the bridge. It was that of the life-guards. I recognised the plumb of Clavers. They approached in rapid march. A solid column of infantry followed. I sent a request to Caplain Nesbit to join his troop to mine. He was in an instant with m e . — W e charged the life-guards. Our swords rung on their steel caps. — Many of our brave lads fell on all sides of me. But we hewed down the foe. They began to reel.—The whole column was kept stationary on the bridge. Clavers* dreadful voice was heard—more like the yell of a savage, than the commanding voice of a soldier. He pushed forward his men, and again we hewed them down. A third mass was pushed up. Our exhausted dragoon fled.—Unsupported, I found myself by the brave Nesbit, and Pat on, and Hackstone. W e looked for a moment's space in silence on each other. W e galloped in front of our retreating men. W e rallied them. W e pointed to the General almost alone. W e pointed to the white and to the scarlet colours floating near him. W e cried, :t God and our Country. They faced about. W e charged Clavers once more.—* Torfoot,' cried Nesbit, 6 1 dare you to the fore-front of the battle.' W e rushed up at full gallop. Our men seeing this followed also at full speed. — W e broke down the enemy's line, bearing down those Sles which we encountered. W e cut our way through �19 tliebr ranks. But they had now lengthened their frost* Superior numbers drove us in. They had gained entira possession of the bridge. Livingstone and Dalzell were actually taking us on the flank.—A band had got between us and Burley's infantry. ' M y friends,' said Hackstone to his officers, we are last on the field. We can do no more.—We must retreat.—Let us attempt, at least, to bring aid to the deluded men behind us. They have brought ruin on themselves and on us. Not Monmouth, but our own divisions have scattered us. A t this moment one of the life-guards aimed a blow at Hackstone—My sword received it—and a stroke from Ne^bit laid the foeman's hand and sword in the dust. He fainted and tumbled from the saddle. We reined our horses, and galloped to our main body. But what a scene presented itself here ! These misguided men had their eyes now fully opened on their fatal errors. The enemy were bringing up their whole force against them. I was not long a near spectator of i t ; for a ball grazed my courser. He plunged and reared --then shot off like an arrow. Several of our officers drew to the same place. On the knoll we faced about —the battle raged below us. W e beheld our commander doing every thing that a brave soldier could do with factious men against an overpowering foe. Burley and his troops were in close conflict with Clavers* dragoons. W e saw him dismount three troopers with his own hand. He could not turn the tide of battle, but he was covering the retreat of these misguided men. Before we could rejoin him, a party threw themselves in our way. Kennoway, one of Clavers' officers led them on. c Would to God that this was Graharrie himself,' some of my comrades ejaculated aloud. 6 He falls to my share,' said I , ' whoever the officer b e . ' — I advanced—he met me, I parried several thrusts, he received a cut on the left arm; and the sword by the tame stroke, shore off one of his horse's ears ; it plunged and reared. W e closed again. I received a stroke on the left shoulder. M y blow fell on his sword arm. He �20 reined his horse around, retreated a few paces, then returned at full gallop. M y courser reared instinctively as he approached ; I received his stroke on the back of my ferrara, and by a back stroke, I gave hirn a deep cut on the cheek. And before he could recover a position of defence, my sword fell with a terrible blow on his steel cap. Stunned by the blow, he bent himself forward—and, grasping the mane, he tumbled from his saddle, and his steed galloped over the field. I did not repeat the blow. His left hand presented his sword ; his right arm was disabled ; his life was given to him. M y companions having disposed of their antagonists, (and some of them had two a-piece,) we paused to see the fate of the battle. Dalzell and Livingstone were riding over the field like furies, cutting down all in their way. Monmouth was galloping from rank to rank, and calling on his men to give quarter. Clavers, to wipe off the disgrace of Drumclog, was committing dreadful havoc. * Can we not find Clavers,' said Halhead, ' no said Captain Paton, c the gallant Colonel takes care to have a solid guard of his rogues about him. I have sought him over the field; but I found him, as I now perceive him, with a mass of his guards about him. • A t this instant we saw our General, at some distance, disentangling himself from the men who had tumbled over him in the mele. His face, his hands, and clothes, were covered with gore. He had been dismounted, and was fighting on foot. W e rushed to the spot, and cheered him. Our party drove back the scattered bands of Dalzell. ' M y friends,' said Sir Robert, as we mounted him on a stray horse, ( t h e day is lost! But —you Paton ; you Brownlee of Torfoot, and you Halhead ; let not that flag fall into the hands of these incarnate devils. W e have lost the battle, but by the grace of God, neither Dalzell, nor Clavers shall say that he took our colours. M y ensign has done his duty. He is down. This sword has saved it twice. I leave it to your care. You see its perilous situation.' He pointed with his sword to the spot. W e collected �21 some of our scattered troops, and flew to the place. The standard bearer was down, but he was born upright by the mass of men who had thrown themselves in fierce contest around it. Its well known blue and scarlet colours, and its m o t t o , * CHRIST'S CROWN AND COVENANT/ in brilliant gold letters, inspired us with a sacred enthusiasm. W e gave a loud cheer to the wounded ensign, and rushed into the combat. The redemption of that flag cost the foe many a gallant man. They fell beneath our broad swords ; and, with horrible execrations dying on their lips, they gave up their souls to their Judge. Here I met in front that ferocious dragoon of Clavers, named Tam Halliday, who had more than once, in his raids, plundered my halls ; and had snatched the bread from my weeping babes. He had just seized the white staff of the flag. But his tremenduous oath of exultation, (we of the covenant never swear)—his oath had scarcely passed its polluted threshold, when this Andrew Ferrara fell on the guard of his steel and shivered it to pieces. ' Recreant loon !' said I , ' thou shalt this day remember thy evil deeds.' Another blow on his helmet laid him at his huge length, and made him bite the dust. In the mele that followed, I lost sight of him. We fought like lions—but with the hearts of Christians. While my gallant companions stemmed the tide of battle, the standard, rent to tatters, fell across my breast. I tore it from the staff, and wrapt it round my body. W e cut our way through the enemy, and carried our General off the field. Having gained a small knoll, we beheld once more the dreadful spectacle below. Thick volumes of smoke and dust rolled in a hazy cloud over the dark bands mingled in deadly fray. It was no longer a battle, but a massacre. In the struggle of my feelings I turned my eyes on the General and Paton. I saw, in the face of the latter, an indiscribable conflict of passions. His long and shaggy eye-brows were drawn over his eyes. His hand grasped his sword. ' I cannot yet leave the field �22 mid the undaunted Pa ton—' With the General* fNtf < * masion, I shall try to save some of our wretched m$o beset by those hell-hounds. W h o will go P — A t Kilsyth I saw service. When deserted by my troops, I cut my way through Montrose's men, and reached the epot where Colonels Halket and Strachan were. W e left the field together. Fifteen dragoons attacked us. W e cut down thirteen, and two fled. Thiiteen next assailed us. W e left ten on the field, and three fled. Eleven Highlanders next met us. W e paused and cheered each other: ' N o w , Johnny/ cried Halket to me, ' put forth your metal, else we are gone,' nine others we sent after their comrades, and two fled N o w , who will join this raid J'* ' I will be your leader,' said Sir Robert, as we fell into the ranks. W e marched on the enemy's flank. ' Yonder is Clavers,' said Paton, while he directed his courser on him. The bloody man was, at that moment, nearly alone, hacking to pieces some poor fellows already on their knees disarmed, and imploring hiin by the common feelings of humanity to spare their lives. He had just finished his usual oath against their * feelings of humanity,' when Paton presented himself. He instantly let go his prey and slunk back into the midst of his troopers. Having formed them, he advanced.—We formed, and made a furious onset. A t our first charge his troop reeled. Clavers was dismounted.—But at that moment Dalzell assailed us on the flank and rear.—Our men fell around us like grass before the mower. The buglemen sounded a retreat. Once more in the mele I fell in with the General and Paton, we were covered with wounds. W e directed our flight in the rear of our broken troops. By the direction of the General I * This chivalrous defence is recorded, I find, in the life of Captain Paton, in the 4 Scots Wcrthies,' Edin. edit, of A . D. 1813. This celebrated Officer was trained up to warfare in the army of Charles Gustavus, King of Sweden. This is a specimen of these heroic Whigs, who brought about the Revolution of A. D. 1688. �93 had unfurled the standard. It was born off the fie flying at the sword's point. But that honour cost wot much. I was assailed by three fierce dragoons; five followed close in the rear. I called to Pa ton,—in a moment he was by my side. I threw the standard to the General, and we rushed on the foe. They fell beneath our swords ; but my faithful steed, which had carried me through all my dangers was mortally wounded. He fell. I was thrown in among the fallen enemy. I fainted. I opened my eyes on misery. I found myself in the presence of Monmouth—a prisoner—with other wretched creatures, awaiting, in awful suspense, their ultimate destiny. * * * * W . C. B. LONG CREDIT. Soon after the battle of Preston, two Highlanders, in roaming through the south of Mid-Lothian, entered the farm-house of Swanston, near the Pentland Hills, where they found no one at home but an old woman. They immediately proceeded to search the house, anr soon finding a web of coarse home-spun cloth, made I M scruple to unroll and cut off as much as they though* would make a coat to each. The woman was exceedingly incenced at their rapacity, roared and cried, anc even had the hardihood to invoke divine vengeance upon their heads. " Ye villains ! " she cried, " ye'11 ha'e to account for this y e t ! " — 4 4 And when will we pe account for't?" asked one of the Highlanders.—" A t the 1; st day, ye blackguards ! " exclaimed the woman. ' Ta last tay !" replied the Highlander: « Tat pc cood long credit—we'll e'en pe tak a waistcoat too ! " at the same time cutting off a few additional yards of the cloth. D E A T H OF A WATCH. After the battle of Falkirk, in 1746, a Highlandman was observed extracting a gold watch from the fob at �24 an English officer who had been killed. His comrade viewed him with a greedy eye ; which the man taking notice of, said to him " T a m n you gapin1 creedy bitch, gang an* shoot a shentleman for hersel', an no en vie me o' my pit watch. Next morning finding his watch motionless, and meeting his comrade, says to him, €< Och ! she no be care muckle about a watch, an' you be like mine what will you gie me for her ? " The othe* replied, I be venture a kinny."—Weel then,*' said the other, " Shust tak her, an' welcome, for she be die yester night." CAPTAIN SILK. In a party of ladies, on it being reported that a Captain Silk had arrived in town, they exclaimed, with one exception, ' What a name for a soldier !' ' The fittest Barne in the world,' replied a witty female, ' for Silk •ever can be Worsted # \ � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut 028: Title-page illustration of a soldier with his face turned to the right, sitting on a chair and holding a sword. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Narrative of the Battles of Drumclog, and Bothwell Bridge. Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages 16 cm Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9934228163505154">s0585b33</a> Description An account of the resource 1 printed at the foot of the title page Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1840-1850? Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Brownlee, Thomas, Laird of Torfoot Type The nature or genre of the resource history Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow War Bothwell Bridge, Battle of, Scotland, 1679 Drumclog, Battle of, Scotland, 1679 # of Woodcuts: 1 Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1841-1850 Chapbook genre: history Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Fashion (Clothing): military Furniture: bench(s) Gender: man/men Occupation: soldier Weapons: sword https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/2e3b7eae204c1118da7c05399f3cb79d.pdf 83193e2febc8060c58a9f35ea6c49e30 PDF Text Text SIR JAMES THE ROSE, AN OLD SCOTTISH Tragic Song. GLASGOW: PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS, 11. �SIR JAMES THE ROSE. Of all the Scottish northern chiefs Of high and warlike name, The bravest was Sir James the Rose, A knight of meikle fame. His growth was like a youthful oak; That crowns the mountain's b r o w . And waving o'er his shoulders broad His locks of yellow flew. Wide were his fields, his herds were large And large his flocks of sheep, And numerous were his goats Upon the mountain steep. The chieftain of the good clan Rose, A firm and warlike band, Five hundred warriors drew the sword Beneath his high command. In bloody fight thrice had he stood, Against the English keen, Ere two and twenty opening springs The blooming youth had seen. The fair Matilda dear he lov'd, A maid of beauty rare ; Even Margaret, on the Scottish throne, Was never half so fair. �3 Long had he woo'd, long she refused, With seeming scorn and pride; Yet oft her eyes confess'd the love Her fearful words denied. At length she blessed his well-tried love, Allow'd his tender claim; She vow'd to him her tender heart, And own'd an equal flame. Her father, Buchan's cruel lord, Their passion disapprov'd; He bade her wed Sir John the Græme, And leave the youth she lov'd. One night they met as they were wont, Deep in a shady w o o d ; Where on the bank, beside the burn, A blooming saugh tree stood, Conceal'd among the underwood The crafty Donald lay, The brother of Sir John the Graeme, To watch what they might say: When thus the maid began, My sire Our passion disapproves; He bids me wed Sir John the Graeme, So here must end our loves. M y father's will must be obey'd, Nought boots me to withstand; Some fairer maid in beauty's bloom, Shall bless thee with her hand. Soon will Matilda be forgot, And from thy mind effac'd; �But may that happiness be thine Which I can never taste; What do I hear ? is this thy vow ? Sir James the Rose replied; And will Matilda wed the Graeme, Though sworn to be my bride ? His sword shall sooner pierce my heart Than 'reave me of thy charms ; And clasp'd her to his throbbing breast , Fast lock'd within his arms. I spoke to try thy love, she said, I'll ne'er wed man but thee; The grave shall be my bridal bed, If Græme my husband be. Take then, dear youth, this faithful kiss In witness of my troth; And every plague become my lot, That day I break my oath. They parted thus—the sun was set— Up hasty Donald flies; And turn thee, turn thee, beardless youth He loud insulting cries. Soon turned about the fearless Chief, And soon his sword he drew; For Donald's blade before his breast, Had pierced his tartans through. This for my brother's slighted love, His wrongs sit on my arm— Three paces back the youth retir'd, And sav'd himself from harm. �5 Returning swift, his sword he rear'd Fierce Donald's head above ; And through the brain, and crashing bone. The furious weapon drove. Life issued at the wound—he fell A lump of lifeless clay ; So fall my foes, quoth valiant Rose, And stately strode away. Through the green wood in haste he pass'd Unto Lord Buchan's hall— Beneath Matilda's window stood, And thus on her did call: Art thou asleep, Matilda dear, Awake, my love ! awake; Behold thy lover waits without, A long farewell to take. For I have slain fierce Donald Graeme, His blood is on my sword; And far, far distant are my men, Nor can defend their lord. T o Skye I will direct my flight, Where my brave brothers bide; And raise the mighty of the Isles, To combat on my side. O do not so, the maid replied, With me till morning stay ; For dark and dreary is the night, And dang'rous is the way. All night I'll watch you in the park, My faithful page I'll send, �6 In haste to raise the brave clan Rose, Their master to defend. He laid him down beneath a bush, And wrapp'd him in his plaid— While trembling for her lover's fate, A t distance stood the maid. Swift ran the page o'er hill and dale, Till, in a lonely glen, He met the furious Sir John Graeme, With twenty of his men. Where goest thou, little page, he said, So late ? who did thee send ?— I g o to raise the brave clan Rose, Their master to defend. For he has slain fierce Donald Graeme, His blood is on his sword; And far, far distant are his men, N o r can assist their lord. And has he slain my brother dear, The furious chief replies; Dishonour blast my name but he By me ere morning dies. Say, page, where is Sir James the Rose ? I will thee well reward— H e sleeps into Lord Buchan's park, Matilda is his guard. They spurred their steeds and furious flew, Like lightning o'er the lee; They reach'd Lord Buchan's lofty tow'rs, By dawning of the day. �7 Matilda stood without the gate, Upon a rising ground— And watch'd each object in the dawn, All ear to every sound. Where sleeps the Rose? began the Graeme, Or has the felon fled ? This hand shall lay the wretch on earth By whom my brother bled. And now the valiant knight awoke, The virgin shrieking heard ; Straight up he rose and drew his sword, When the fierce band appeared. Your sword last night my brother slew, His blood yet dims its shine; And e'er the sun shall gild the morn, Your blood shall reek on mine. Your words are brave the chief returned, But deeds approve the man ; Set by your men, and hand to hand, W e ' l l try what valour can. With dauntless step he forward strode, And dared him to the fight; The Graeme gave back : he feared his arm, For well he knew his might. Four of his men, the bravest four Sunk down beneath his sword; But still he scorned the poor revenge, And sought their haughty lord. Behind him basely came the Graeme, And pierced him in the side; �8 Out spouting came the purple stream, And all his tartans dyed. But yet his hand dropped not the sword. N o r sunk he to the ground— Till through his enemy's heart the steel Had forced a mortal wound. Græme, like a tree by wind o'erthrown, Fell breathless on the clay! And down beside him sank the And faint and dying lay. Rose Matilda saw and fast she ran— O spare his life, she cried— Lord Buchan's daughter begs his life, Let her not be denied. Her well-known voice the hero heard, He rais'd his death-clos'd eyes; H e fix d them on the weeping maid, And weakly thus replies : In vain Matilda begs a life, By death's arrest denied; My race is run—adieu my love, Then closed his eyes and died. The sword yet warm from his left side. With frantic hand she drew; I come, Sir James the Rose, she cried, I come to follow you. The hilt she lean'd against the ground. And bar'd her snowy breast; Then fell upon her lover's face, And sunk to endless rest. � https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/830e07d0f4ee1461e8bedf1c8a78c86c.jpg 04970585bef446d7a75a81df6ccf75ed Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 3012 Width 1828 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut on title-page portraying a man wearing a hat, kilt, and plaid socks holding an upright rifle. To his left is a door marked with the letter V Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut 026: Title-page illustration of a Highland soldier in a kilt and plaid socks holding an upright rifle in a outdoor scene. A door in background is imprinted with the letter "V". Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Sir James the rose, an old Scottish tragic song Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Courtship and Marriage Highlands War Description An account of the resource '11' is printed at the bottom of the title-page Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1840-1850 per University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923416743505154">s0153b19</a> Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Isle of Skye, Scotland Abstract A summary of the resource. A tragic love song about the romance between a highland chieftain, Sir James the Rose, and the fair Matilda, the daughter of the Lord Buchan. When Matilda’s father discovers her love for Sir James, he does not approve of the match and instead bids that she wed Sir John the Graeme. When she goes to tell her lover, they vow to wed anyway, which is overheard by Donald, Graeme’s brother, who then attacks James. In defending himself, James kills Donald. When he tries to flee to Skye to rouse the clan Rose, Matilda bids him to wait and sleep in the park instead where she can watch over him and sends a page instead to find his kin. The page is captured by the Graeme on his way where he discloses the plan and location of Sir James. Graeme attacks James with twenty men but James defends himself valiantly, slaying several of the knights as well as the Graeme himself, although he himself is mortally wounded in the process. As James dies, Matilda commits suicide by throwing herself on James’ sword as well. Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks <a href="http://www.lib.uoguelph.ca/find/find-type-resource/archival-special-collections/scottish-studies">http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/</a> Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages 14 cm Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Type The nature or genre of the resource ballads & songs biography Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Bruce, Michael, 1746-1767 # of Woodcuts: 1 Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1841-1850 Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Fashion (Clothing): feather bonnet Fashion (Clothing): Highland attire Fashion (Clothing): kilt Fashion (Clothing): military Fashion (Clothing): sporran Gender: man/men Occupation: soldier Outdoor Scene Weapons: gun(s) https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/7c3bd1f94fbcf25515da5fccabb32440.jpg e401a6c314bf3f2718b2a1fda70a2dfa Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut on title-page portraying a man sleeping with head resting on hand sitting at a table. A skull and crossbones is on table and a lion is inside the table. In background are scenes of a town and rural scene with trees and hills (with 2 pillars atop) in front of which stands a man in a kilt and wearing a backpack, who is reading a book https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/33536ef595e842fc612dc07fefbc22ae.pdf 477daf49b0b276d273f350d059c06f89 PDF Text Text THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS FROM THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. Delivered under the similitude of a Dream. PAISLEY: PRINTED BY CALDWELL AND SON, W 2, NEW STREET. © �his worthy friend the Author of The Third Part ofths Progress, upon the perusal thereof T H O U G H many things are writ to please the age r Amongst the re^t for this I dare engage, "Where virtue dwells, it will acceptance find, And to your pilgrim, most that read be kind, But all to please, would be a task as hard, As for the winds from blowing to be barr'd. The pious Christian, in a mirror here, May see the promised land, and, without fear Of threaten'd danger, bravely travel oil, Until his juurney he has safely gone, And does arrive upon the happy shore, Where joys increase, and sorrow is no more* This is a dream, not fabled as of old j In this express the sacred truths are told, That do to our eternal peace belong, And, after mourning changes to a song Of glorious triumph, that are without end, I f we but bravely for the prize eontend. No pilgrimage like this, can make us blest?. Since it brings us to everlasting rest; So well in every part the sense is laid, That it to charm t/te reader may be said, WitA curious fancy and great delight, W/iieZr to an imitation must invite. And Aappy are they, that, tArougA stormy seas, And dangers, seek adventures like to tAese ! W&o sell the world for t/jis great pearl of price, WAicA, once procured, will purchase Paradise I H e who in sucA a bark dotA spread /lis sails. Needs never fear at last tAese prosperous gales That will conduct /am to a land, wAfere he SAall feel no storms, but in a calm sAall be: WAere crown'd witA glory he sAall sit and sing Eternal praise to Ais redeeming King Who conquer'd deatA, despoilM him of his sting. So wishes yourfaithful friend, Pilgrim �a "rhe progress of the Pilgrim is here represented by Christian leaving the City of Destruction, in terror and alarm at his fate. He is met by Evangelist, who, perceiving his fear, asked him, Wherefore dost thou cry? H e asnwered, I see by the Book in my hand that I am condemned to die. Then Evangelist said, why standest thou still; Fly from the wrath to come. Whether shall I fly? said Christian. Then said Evangelist, Dost thou see yonder shining light; keep that light in yotar eye, and go up directly thereto, so shalt thou see the gate, at which when thou kncckest, it shall be told thee w hat thou shalt do. Christian begari to run, but he had not run far when his wife and children began to cry after him to return, but he put his fingers in his ears, and ran on crying Life, Life, Eternal Life. �Christian bad not proceeded far, till wife and children with many neighbours, entreated him to come back, but all in vain. Christian persuaded two of them to go with him, viz. Pliable and Obstinate. Obstinate soon rebels, but pliable jogged on, till suddenly both he and Christian plumped into the Slough of Despond. Pliable set his face homewards, determined to get rid of such difficulties ; but Christian struggled hard to g2in the other side, while the burden of sin on his back had nearly overcome him. A man called Help came to his assistance, and again set him on his way. He soon after met Worldly-wiseman, who directed him to the Town of Morality, where one named Legality would relieve him of his burden. H e immediately tcok the road, but had not gone far till terror and alarm seizM hiro, arid again Evangelist met him and checked him, and set him on the right road. �After getting a severe reproof from Evangelist, Christi in was horror struck at his deviating from the right road, and almost lost hope of ever attaining his object, when Evangelist, taking him by the hand, cheered him on warning him of the same danger in time. Christian at length arrived at the gate, upon which was inscribed * knock and it shall be opened/ H e knocked more than once or twice, when a grave person came to the gate, named Goodwill, who asked him what, he wanted. Christian replied, he was a poor hardened sinner from the City of Destruction, bound for Mount Zion, will you let me in?" "With all my heart," he replied. Beelzebub, as he entered, gava him a pull, but Christian escaped. �Christian having fairly escaped the attempts of Beelze° bub and his emissaries to hold him back, and being fairlyentered in at the gate, received many wholesome advices from Goodwill how to proceed; and coming to the house of Interpreter, was kindly welcomed, and shewn many strange and wondrous sights, at which Christian was sadly alarmed; but being soothed by Interpreter, with kindly directions to proceed on his journey, he again set off, passed the walls of salvation, and came to a rising ground, where stood a cross, and a little below a sepulchre. At the cross, his bundle loosened off, and tumbled to the mouth of the sepulchre, whe^e it fell in, and was no more seen. Then was Christian glad, and said with a merry heart, 'he hath giyen me rest by his sorrow, and life by his death. �Christian having now got rid of his burden, pushed on more lightly. He soon fell in with three men, named Simple, Sloth, and Presumtion, whom he endeavoured to rouse and assist; but they would not listen to him, so he left them, very grieved. He then saw two men come tumbling over the wall, Formality and Hypocrisy, who walked along with him in hope of reaching Mount Zion, though having no passport, till they came to the hill Difficulty, when the one took the road to Destruction, and the other to Danger; but Christian took the narrow path up the hill, and struggled hard till he arrived at the arbour, prepared by the Lord of the place for weary pilgrims, where he sat and refreshed himself, and read his scroll with great delight. �When Christian had got to the top of the hill, two men came running to meet him, named Timorous and Mistrust. 'What is the matter, said he, that you are running the wrong way?' Timorous said, 'We were for Mount Zion, but the farther we went, the dangers became the greater, and we were turning back again; two mighty lions are before us, ready to pull us in pieces.' Then was Christian in great distress, and knew not what to do. He put his hand in his bosom for the roll to comfort him, but behold it was gone. He remembered having slept at the arbour, and traced his way back with weary steps to find it. H e fell on his knees and begged forgiveness for his error, and while in that position his eye catched the roll under the seat. H e put it in his bosom with joy, again took the road, came in view of the lions; but they, being chained, could not hurt him. �9 r ^ j ' When Christian lift up his eyes, he beheld the palace of Beautiful, the porter's gate, and two lions. H e was encouraged to come forward, being assured he should receive no harm, as they were chained. After a few interrogations from the Porter as to his intentions, and how he came to be so late at night, which was satisfactorily answered. Christian requested lodgings for the night. The Porter knocked at the door of the Palace, when a damsel called Discretion answered, and after a long conversation with her two sisters, Piety and Prudence, regarding the nature of his journey, the difficulties that had befallen him, and what could have moved him to leave his wife and family, to undertake such a journey, thc^ found it was time to go to re&t, when he was conducted to the Chamber of Peace. �H e got up in the morning, and was shown all the rarities of the place, and clad with a suit of Armour. The Porter informed him that one Faithful had just past, Christian followed, but was met by Apollyon, with whom he had a bloody struggle, but overcame. The valley of the Shadow of Death was another horrific scene that he also accomplished; and looking back, now with horror the bones of many martyrs at the mouth, and soon came in sight of faithful, with whom he held sweet converse, till he came to Vanity Fair. Their manner and dress attracted the attention of people, and caused a great demur. A merchant asked what they would buy; they said, 'the Truth;—which he took amiss, and raised such a hubbub, that they were both taken up, and put in a cage for publiG view. �Poor Christian and Faithful, while in the cage, belmved themselves very meekly, in spite of all the insults they received; and many others were buffered for taking their part. They were dragged through the Fair, and again conducted to their cage to stand their trial, which was soon brought on. Envy, Superstition, and Hypocrisy were brought forward as evidences, who did not fail to tell a partial story, which a partial judge, Mr. Hategood, and a partial packed jury did not fail to confirm; and Faithful was found guilty of the crime libelled, and condemmned to die at the stake. Faithful was allowed to make a defence, but instead of doing him any good, only hardened them against him. �12 Poor Faithful was then Lr u^ht out, to do with him according to the law. First h"y scourged him, then they buffetted him, then they lanced his flesh with knives, after that they stoned him with stones, they pricked him with their swords, and last of all they burnt him to ashes at the stake.-—Thus came Faithful to his end. Then stood behind the multitude a chariot and a couple of horses waiting for Faithful, who was taken up into it, and carried up through the clouds with sound of trumpet, the nearest way to tho Celestial Gate. Christian he got some respite, and was remanded back to prison; but he that overrules all things, abated their rage, and he escaped thence, and went his way. �A, Altho' Christian went away alone, Hopeful, a pilgrim bound for the Celestial City, fell in with him, and they went on joyfully. They then fell in with Byends, but soon parted with him. They met with several otherg, whose company they did net rel'sfo, and left them. One Demas attempted to lead them astray with filthy lucre, but they resisted him, and kept the right road. They afterwards passed Lot's wife, and slept on the banks of Pleasant River. They then went off their way. but again found it, and fell asleep in the policies of Doubting Castle, where Giant Despair took them both prisoners, and treat them very harshly,—they almost chose death rather than life under such treatment. However a key found in Christian's bosom opened the doors? &nd they made their escape with difficulty, 0 �Having escaped from Giant Despair, they errected a pillar at the stile, warning travellers to beware of Doubting Castle, there they went on singing till they came to the Delectable Mountains, where they surveyed all the beautiful gardens and orchards on Emmanuel's land, in company with the shepherds. They were now in sight of the city, and the shepherds showed them many wonderful things; among the rest, a dismal hole. They bade the pilgrims look in: when they heard a rumbling noise, and beheld all within it dark and smoky, and a cry of some tormented. They were told this was the way of the wicked. Leaving this country, they came to the enchanted ground, where they fell in with some of the shining inhabitants of the city, and had abundance of corn and wine, and heard voices out of the city, saying, 'say ye to the daughter of Zion, Behold thy salvation cemetli- �15 Drawing nearer the city, they beheld it built of pearls and precious stones, the streets were paved with gold. Christian with desire fell sick ; Hopeful also had a fit or two. They were strengthened, and went on, beholding the vineyards and gardens of these delightful lands. Between them and the gate was a river, very deep, and no bridge. The pilgrims were alarmed, but through it they must pass. Christian began to sink, but Hopeful cheered him on. Then said Christian, 4 the sorrows of death hath compassed me about.' In sinking, they lost their earthly garments, but rose and were welcomed on the other side by two glorious persons, who ascended a very steep hill. They went up with great ease, and landed safely in the Celestial City, which they entered singing, with a loud voice, 'Blessing, honour, glory, and power to him oil the throne, and to the Lamb, for ever and ever. �16 Ever since Christian went off on his journey to the Celestial City, Christiana his wife and their children did nothing but weep and lament for him; crying often out in her sleep, 'Lord have mercy upon me a sinner/ An heavenly messenger came to her, and gave her a letter. The contents advised her to do as her husband had done, and to dwell in his presence for ever. At this she was quite overcome, and asked him to carry her hither. But he said, 'You must go through the troubles as he has done before you: yonder is the wicket gate over the plain, and I wish thee speed. Several of the neighbours advised her against it, but she took the road, with all her children; and falling in with Mercy, they went on in the sweet hope of shortly arriving at that happy place where her husband was. �IT Mary expressed herself doubtful as to her right of admission at the wicket gate, but Christiana encouraged hw on, and assured her of a kind reception. Then Mercy eaid, 'Had I as good ground to hope as you have, I think no Slough of Despond would discourage me.' They got all safe over the Slough, and arrived at ihe gate, whe®e they knocked a long time, but nothing but an angry dog barked at them. They got afraid to knock any more, till venturing another knock, the keeper called 'Who's there,' and opened to them. Christiana said, she came from whence Christian came, who was there before, and upon the same errand here are also my children. H e took her by the hand, and said, 'Suffer little children to come unto me." She interceded far Mercy, and she was admitted also. �With some difficulty, Mercy was admitted. She questioned the keeper what he meant by keeping such a dog. H e said the dog was not his, but kept by a person to terify pilgrims from the gate, in which he was but too successful. In passing along, they were LS aulted by two ill favoured ones, who did what they could to lead them astray, but were defeat. After being with one or two more, she arrived at the Interpreter's house, who, while supper was getting ready, shewed them many wondrous things, told them many curious stories, and related many parables. Supper being ready, and thanks given, they partook of a hearty repast, while masic played sweetly. When supper and music was over, Interpreter asked Christiana what moved her to try a pilgrim's life, she said the loss of her husband, and the letter from the King of Zion, �The Interpreter also asked Mercy what induced her to go in such an undertaking. She said, 'My friend telHng me how many fine things her husband was enjoying, tempted me to go.' In the morning they rose with the sun, to depart, but they were ordered into the garden to bathe and purify themselves before they went on their journey, which they (lid, and were much refreshed. Greatheart was sent along with them to guide them on their way, and converse with them. They passed the place where the load fell from Christian's back, and made a pause. After musing a little, they came to the place where Simple, Sloth, and Presumption were hanging in chains. Mercy inquired the cause of this, when she was told their crime was leading a number of pilgrims out of their way, and giving an ill report of your Lord, saying he was a hard taskmaster. �j Greathearfc wished Christiana and Mercy to go up and see their crimes engraven on a pillar of brass, but they would not go ; but wished their names might rot, and their crimes live for ever against them, saying, it was fortunate they were hanged before they came hither. They soon arrived at the foot of the Hill of Difficulty; Greatheart shewed them the Spring where Christian drank, and the two byeways where Formality and Hypocrisy lost themselves. Yet there are people who will choose to adventure in these paths, rather than go up the hill. They began to go up the hill, and Christiana began to pant and want a rest; but Greatheart encouraged them, telling them they were not far from the Arbour, where they woukl find rest. 4 \ �Being refreshed at the Arbour, and seeing many sights that Christian recounted before, they again took the road determined to resist all obstacles. Greatheart at all times proved their faithful friend and sure defence. He encountered a ferocious giant and slew him. Shortly after, they fell in with another, which he also overcame; and lastly they approached Doubting Castle, which Greatheart determined to level to the ground. He sent the giant a challange, and they had a severe fight, but the giant was overcome, and hie head was severed from his body. Then they fell to demolishing the castle, and released several prisoners, who were almost starved to death. It took seven days to demoMsh it, and many strange sights were seen. �22 They H W jogged on in the usual path of pilgrims, occasionally O meeting with difficulties and encouragement, carefully surveying all the spots where Christian her husband happened with any tiling memorable, till they arrived at the land of Beulah, where the sun shines night and day, and here because they were weary they betook themselves to rest. But a little while soon refreshed them here; for the bells did so ringT and the trumpets continually sounded so melodiously, that they could not sleep, and yet they received as much refreshment as if they slept their sleep never so soundly. N o w while they lay here, and wailed for the good hour, there was a noise in the town, that there was a post come from the Celestial City, with matters of great importance, lo one Christiana the wife of Christian the pilgrim. So enquiry was made for her, and the house was found out where she was; so the post presented her with a letter the contents were, "Hail, good woman! I bring thee tidings the Master calleth for thee, and expecteth that thou shouldst stand in his presence, in clothes of immortality, within these ten days." When he had read this letter to her, he gave her therewith a true token that he was a true messenger, and was come to bid her make haste to be gone. The token was, an airow sharpened with love, let easily into her heart, which by degrees wrought so effectually with her, that at the time appointed s&e must be gone. When Christiana saw her time was come, and that she was the first of this company that was to go over, she called for Mr. Greatheart her guide, and told him how matters were. Then she called for her children, and gave them her blessing, and told them, that she had read wi;h comfort the mark that was set in their foreheads, and was glad to see them with her there, and that they had kept their garments so white. Lastly, she bequeathed to the poor that little she had, and commanded her sons and daughters to be ready against the messenger should come for them. When she had spoken these words to her guide, and to her children, she called for Mr. Valiant-for-truth, and said unto him, Sir, You have in all places shewed yourself true hearted, be faithful unto death, and my King will give you a crown of glory. I would also entreat you to have an eye to my children; and if at any time you see them faint, speak comfortably to them; for my daughters, my sons* wives, they have been faithful, and a fulfilling of the promise upon them will be their end. But she gave Mr. Standfast a ring. Then she aalled for old Mr. Honest, and she said of him, Behold an Isr a elite indeed, in whom is no guile. Then said lie, I wish you a fair day, when you set out for Mount Sion, and shall be glad to see that you get over the river shod. But she answered, 'Come wet, or come dry, I long to be gone; for however, the weather is in my journey, I shall have time enough when I come t/*ere, to sit down and rest me, and dry me. Then came in the good man Mr. Ready-to-halt, to see her. So she said to him, Thy travail hitherto has been with difficulty: but that will make thy rest the sweeter. But watch and be ready; for at an hour when you think not, the messenger may come. �%3 After him eaaae Mr. Despondency, and bis daughter Much-afraid ; to whom she said, You ought with thankfulness, for ever, to remember your deliverance from the hand of Giant Despair, and out of Doubting Castle, The effect of that mercy is, that you are brought with safety hither. Be yet watchful, and cast away fear; be sober and hope to the end. Then she said to Mr. Feeble-mind, Thou wast delivered from the mouth of the Giant Slay good, that«thou mightest live in the light of the living for ever, and see the King with comfort: only I advise thee to repent thee of thy aptness to fear and doubt of his goodness, before he sends for thee ; lest thou shouldest, when he comes, be forced to stand before him, for the fault, with blushing. Now the day drew on, that Christiana must be gone. So the road was full of people to see her take her journey. But Behold ! all the banks beyond the river were full of horses and chariots, which were come down from above to accompany her to the city-gate. So she came forth and entered the river with a beckon of farewell to those that followed her to the river-side. The last words that she was heard to say, were, "I come, Lord, to be with thee, and bless thee." So her children and friends returned to their place; for that those that waited for Christiana had carried her out of their sighv So she went and called, and entered in at the gate with all the ceremonies of joy that her husband Christian had entered before her. Then k came to pass a while after, that there was a post in the t )wn that inquired for Mr. Honest, So he came to his house where lie was, and delivered ieto his hands these lines, Thou art commanded to be ready against this day sevennight to present thyself before thy Lord, at his father's house. And for a token that my message is true, All the daughters of the muse shall be brought low. Then Mr. Honest called for his friends, and said unto them, I die, but shall make no will. As for my Honesty, it shall go with me; let him that comes after be told this. When the day that he was to be gone was come, he addressed himself to go over. Now this river at that time overflowed the banks in some places; but Mr. Honest in his lifetime had spoken to one Good-Conscience to meet him there, the which he also did, and lent him his hand, and so helped him over. The last Words of Mr. Honest were, Grace reigns. So he left the world. Now, while he was thus in discourse, his countenance changed, his strong man bowed under him ; and after he had said, Take me, for I come unto thee, he ceased to be seen of them. In process of time, there came a post to the town again, and his business was with Mr. Ready-to-halt. So he enquired him out and said, I am come to thee in the name of Him whom thou hast loved and followed, though upon crutches; and my message is, to tell thee, that he expects thee at his table to sup with him in his kingdom, the next day after Easter: wherefore prepare thyself for thy journey. Then he also gave him a token that he was a true messenger, saying, I have broken the golden bowl, and loosed the silver cord* After this, Mr. Ready-to-hal't called for his fellow pilgrims, and to them, saying, I am sent for, and God shall surely visit you also. So �24 he desired Mr. Valiant to make bis will; and because he had nothing to bequeath them that should survive him, but his crutches, and hia good wishes, therefore thus he said , These crutches I bequeatA to my son that shall tread in my steps, with an hundred warm wishes that he may prove better than I have been. Then he thanked Mr. Great-heart for his conduct and kindness, and so addressed himself to his journey. When he came to the brink of the river, he said. N o w I shall hifve no more need of these crutches, since yonder are chariots and horses for me to ride on. The last words he was heard to say, were, Welcome life! So he went his way. After this Mr. Feehle-mind had tidings brought him, that the post sounded his horn at his chamber door. Then he came in, and told liim, saying, l a m come to tell thee, that thy Master hath need of thee; and that in a very little time thou must behold his face in brightness. And take this as a token of the truth of my message : Those that look out at the windows shall be darkened. Then Mr. Feeble-mind called for his frie^ds^ and told them what errand had been brought unto him, and what token he had received of the truth of the message. Then he said, Smce I have nothing to bequeath to any, to what purpose should I make a will ? As for my feeblemind, that I will leave behind, for that I have no need of it in the place whither I go : nor is it worth bestowing upon the poorest pilgrims, wherefore, when I am gone, I desire that you, Mr. Valiar\J, would bury it in a dung-hill. This done, and the day being come in which he was to depart, he entered the river as the rest: his last words were, Hold out faith and patience. So he went over to the other side. But glorious it was to see how the opeu region w&s filled with horses and chariots, with trumpets and pipers, with singers and players «n stringed instruments, to welcom the pilgrims as they went up, and followed one another in at the beautiful gate of the city. As for Christiana's children, the four boys that Christiana brought, with their wives and children, I did not stajr where I was till they were gone over. Also since I came away, 1 heard one say they were yet alive, and so would be, for the Increase of the church ia that place where they were for a time. Shall it be my lot to go that way again, I may give those that desire it an account »f what 1 here am silent about. Mean time I bid my reader FAREWELL. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Pilgrim's Progress from this world to that which is to come. Delivered under the similitude of a Dream. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1839 Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages 16 cm Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9935661083505154">s0587b45</a> <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923386473505154">s0221b12</a> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Chapbook #21 in a bound collection of 22 chapbooks (s0221b12) Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Paisley: G. Caldwell and Son Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Paisley Religion and Morals Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Bunyan, John, 1628-1688 Type The nature or genre of the resource allegory # of woodcuts: 20 Animal: lion(s) Architecture: pillar(s) Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1831-1840 Chapbook Genre: allegory Chapbook Publisher - Paisley: G. Caldwell and Son Fashion (Clothing): upper class Furniture: table(s) Gender: man/men Nature: hill(s) Nature: tree(s) Object: backpack(s) Object: book(s) Object: walking stick/ staff Occupation: peddler Outdoor Scene Symbols: skull & crossbones https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/f1bed49f61d9d754a18e0bbff600747e.pdf 574df09eed1418255faad7342d08266d https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/1b291ece3216086a5106c2cd425a7405.jpg 297974e1cc0ae5ad9713fd25c7de9c92 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/d0faf571c25019c8d562f1f93906f068.jpg 62b5612176f945bb5837366357e9d550 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/1cc482849eeb5525bfdfcca97b19870b.jpg 06a845224b6b4987905afeb40b6971c2 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/2e277b4c8962574770b7457a6f563dcf.jpg b8bf92167e2ff45c0a10a52130999086 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/5899e344290eb7432ff15ad1bbe2505f.jpg 60d8e5e76575d936008f859405c81984 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/c649d347cf3c7d328c7e714667feacdb.jpg b390e70536b2c57bb9db62b97afce5a9 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/c2868ee543c1332d619752a89a79c8ee.jpg 3da6553488c14186a4fa5720ba899299 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/f6a375c44323407333e03c52d4689ee1.jpg bb4ea462ee778ffa1de39d51e18809b8 Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 'Twas on the morn of sweet May Day. To which are added, Lovely Jean, Haluket Meg, Blythe, blythe an' merry are we. Subject The topic of the resource Ballads and songs Courtship and Marriage Wit and Humor Alcohol Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1829 Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923436203505154">s0090b13</a> <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953133973505154">s0042b27</a> Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Glasgow, Scotland Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Lovely Jean Haluket Meg Blythe, blythe an' merry are we. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Burns, Robert, 1759-1796 Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages 16 cm Abstract A summary of the resource. A collection of songs and ballads, mostly on the theme of love. The first tells the happy story of two young lovers who run off to be married secretly at the fair, while the second is a poem by Robert Burns on the beauty of his love. The third is a humorous story of the relationship between a rough spendthrift and his nagging mistress, ending with him getting a mouthful of dung and the ending of their relationship before they get around to getting married. The last is a short drinking song. Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/ Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Chapbook #18 in a bound collection of 37 chapbooks (s0042b27) Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed by and for J. Neil Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/ddc1893a39ffa034e763d8a04d66cebd.pdf fb2ac4680672f29d234fc8891c5ac8c5 PDF Text Text MT ONLT YON AND DEARY O: >C To which :are added, • • •" " • • '- i . A O whijlie and my Banks and Braes Polly Sweet Stirling, Vll v •' r ' ; •*. til come to you Lad, of Bonny Stewart) Dooti, �M Y ONLY J O E A N D DE \RY ^ F ^ H Y cheeks are of the rolls hue, I my only Joe and Deary O, Thy neck ?s o c the filler dew* upon the bank's o< Breirry O. Thy teeth are o the I vory ho -' fweets the twinkle O- thine Q% Nae joy nor pleafur : blinks on me, like you my Joe and Deary Q* When we was bairnies on yon brae, and youth was blinking bbnny \ \ And we wad dife the lee king day wic joy* baitri "heap and moany O. And i wad ch. cc ye o'er the ee and roum arout yon i horny tree, Ann ptr the wiui a", to thee* my only Joean^ Deary O* r The little bir firs on yon thorn* and fin erf wi joy tu* cheery O, Rejoicing in each fJinrafer na*e c res to make it weary G, But dttie ken's yon fongftsr fweet, of a* ihe care*fl ha'e to it feet Which gars thkr^ftlefs bolpm beat* fpr thee my Joe aud D e a r j Q* 0, �3 ha'e a wlfti I canna tine, smang a the cares that grieve me Q , I wift that you wer t ever mine^ and never mair t© leave me O Then I wad dat you night and day, nae either warldly carts to hae, Till life4* warm ftreams forget to play, on thee my Joe and Deary Q* The Braes of Bonny Doon. Y E banks and braes of bonny Doon, How can ye b l o o f o frefh and fair How can ye ch^nt, ye little birds, while I c m fo wae and fu* o' care ? Ye 11 break my heart ye little birds, that \v nt n thro' the flow ring thorn. Ye mind me of departed joys, departed never to return. Oft have I roam'd by bonny Doon, to Tee the rofe and woodbine t^ine, Where iika bin* lung o'er its note, and cheerfully i join'd with mine. W i heartfome glee I pull4d a rofe, a rofe out of yon thorny tree } �4 4 But my falfe Jove has ftown the rofe* and ieft the thorn belling to me* Ye rofe* blaw your bonny blooms, and draw the wild birds by the burn 5 f or Lumar promised me a ring, ana ) e maun aid me Ihould I mourn. Ah ! na, na, na, ye needna mourn, my tea are dim ^nd drowfy worn } Ye bonny birds ye needna fing, for Luman never can return. My Luman's love in broken fighs, at dawn of day by Doon ye* fe hear, ^ n d inid-day by the willow green, lor him I'll fhed a iiient tear. Sweet birds I ken ye'il pity me, and j in mt swi a plantive fang, While «cho wakes, and joins the mane, I mak tor him I lo'td fae lang? O WHISTLE, &c< O Whiflle, Til come to you my lad, O whiftte, and I'll ccnie to ycu my h d r �s Tho' father and mother, and af fhotfMgae mad O whittle, and r i l come to you my ladk But wardly tent, when ye come to court me, And corner na urdefs the back-yett be a jee; Syi.e vp the back-ftyle, and let n ebody fee t And come, as ye were na coining to me, And come. &c. O whittle and I'll come to j r n ray Jad O whiftle. and '1! come to you *ny lad; Tho* father and mother and a* fh mid gae mad O whifl e and Ml come to you my lad. At kirk or at market whenever ye meet me, Gang by me as tho* that ye car'd nae a fiie j But tteal pie a blink o" your bonnie e'e, Yet lo< k as ye were na looking at me. Yet look as ye were na looking at me* O whittle and Pi! come to you mv lad, O whittle and i-ii come you my lad ; Tho 4 father and mother and a4 (hoi*!;! gae mad O whittle and I'll come to you my iad, JLy vow and proteit that ye.carina for me, j^nd whyles ye may lightly my beauty a wee But coutt nae anither, the 4 joking ye be, For fear thij (he wyie your fancy trae nie, f o r fear that lhe wyle your fancy frac ii>e. POLLY SIEWART, Lovely Polly Stewart, O charming Polly Stewart, �1 here's ne'er a flower that blooms In S j hat s hauf fae fair as thou art, The rofe it blaws,. it fades, it fa's, And art c n ne er renew it But worth an truth, a lading youth will gie to Polly Stewart. Thy lock? exprcfs a fweet recefs, %nd I wi ; pleafure view it, 4 Wi (hape fae fine, O were it mine } My charming Polly Stewart, O lovely Polly Stewart, &c* In azure Ikies, I fee thine eyes, ^nd chryftal ftreams avow it, Thy dimpled cheek'fiae youth can meet, no love Polly Stewart O lovely i5olly Stewart* T^hat man cou*d guefs a country lafs, Wad he fae fair as thou a r t ; Nae city belle* can thee excel, My pretty Polly Stewart O lovely Polly Stewart &c. Twined in my arms wic a* thy charms . Poffeffing fic a true heart, Thro 4 life r l l prove how dear I love Mv pretty Polly Stewart. G lovely Polly Stewart,.&<v �SWEET ANNIE, S W E E T Annie frae the fea-beach came* Where Jocky fped'd the .veflel's fide ; A h } wha can keep their heart at name, when Jocky <s toh abocm the tide: Far aff to ciftant realms he gangs, yet Ml be trpe as fce has been; /ind when ilk !alV about him thrangs, he'll t h k k ca Annie, his faithful am. I met our wealthy laird yeftreen, v/ic gowd in hand he tt mpted me, He prailM ray brow, my roiling e en, and made a brag of what he rf gi e : "What though my jocky's far awa% toft do cud down upon the awioms main, Til keep iny hear* another d^y, ( fince jocky may return again. Nae mair, faufe Jamie, fing nae mai^ and fairly rait your pipi'1 aw^y; My jocky would be troubled fair, to fee his friend his lovt betray; For a4 youi longs and verfe are vain, while Jockv s note^ do faithful flov^ Mv heari tof him ihail true rem in 4 * 1*11 keep it ior my conftant jo. " �$ Blaw faft ye ga7es round Jocky's heact* and gar your waves be calm and itill j His harr ewaru fail with breezes fpeed, and cinna a' my pleafure fpill: What though my Jocky's far awa, yec he will braw in fiT!ar Ihine; * I'll keep my heart anither day, fmce jocky may again be mine. A LOVE S O N G . T O V f M i eentle generous p^ffioii^ I ^^^ f ill fub ime delights, Which with m a uat inclination, x v o jLuu awart$ in one unite* v What are titles, pomp and riches, U compared with true content? That falfe joy, which flow bewitches* When obtained, we may repeat. Lawlefs paffions bnflg vexation; But a chafte and conftant love$ Is a glorious emulation, Of the blifsful ft ate above. F I N I � https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/8fd6ae24f0593d36742a44f721668332.jpg 9d2a742b8b05dca4e395b30e249c8777 Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 3592 Width 1950 Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource My only joe and deary o: to which are added, O whistle and I'll come to you my lad, Banks and braes of bonny Doon, Polly Stewart, Sweet Annie, A love song. Subject The topic of the resource Ballads and songs Courtship and Marriage Chapbooks - Scotland - Stirling Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1806 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923370273505154">s0246b30</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. O whistle and I'll come to you my lad. Banks and braes of bonny Doon. Polly Stewart Sweet Annie, A love song. Abstract A summary of the resource. A collection of songs and ballads, most of which focus on love, beauty, and courtship. The first describes the childhood and youth of a young couple and the wish of the singer to return to those days of love and joy, while the second is a song by Robert Burns reproaching the birds for singing and nature for blooming when heartache is at hand. The next song arranges a clandestine meeting, signaled by a whistle, between a young couple in order to avoid the disapproval of the girl’s parents, while the following ballad describes the beauty and charm of a country girl. The next song describes the love between a sailor and his girl, who waits for him faithfully despite temptations by wealthy lairds or false friends and musicians, followed by a final brief song which praises chaste and constant love over false passion. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In public domain; For higher quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages 17 cm Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Stirling: Printed and sold by C. Randall Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Burns, Robert, 1759-1796 Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/0e945827f3cfdc493fc8e72a4a6f3de3.jpg 30c6e0a850db9df9dae3d1d4e9f7bde7 Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 3344 Width 2000 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/0781b895da353464b9ba421a6c31389d.pdf 6c7006371ccbc9499fad162f17457b5a PDF Text Text FOUR Encelteixt Songs THE WONDERFUL WIG. MEG G' THE MILL. THE RAN TIN DOG TIIE DADDIE O'T. GILDEROY. GLASGOW: PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS 31 �SONGS. THE WONDERFUL WIG. In Holland there liv'd by Schdam, The brother of fam'd Mynheer Von Clam, Whose feelings of pride were very much gall'd, Because you must know that his head was bauld, Ri too la ro, So lie went and call'd upon Barbour Bombig, And told him directly to make him a wig,— For said he, I can't get any lady to wed With me till I get some hair on my head. Ri too la ro, &c. Then the barber began (not a moment to wait) And took the dimensions of Clam's bauld pate , And as it was Mynheer's desire, The springs were made of a new patent wire, Ri too la ro, &c. The wig was made and fitted well, Which made Von Clam look like a swell; But when it was fasten'd tight on with the spring*. Oh! he flew in the air just as if he'd got wings. Ri too la ro, &c. The barber was struck with wonder quite, To see the wig go up such a height. �3 So frighten'd was he that he quite ran awaj, And never was seen till this very day. Ri too la ro, &c. As to Yon Clam he continu'd to fly, Till he could nt be seen with the naked eye ; But with a telescope him you might see A flying about just like a parch'd pea. Ri too la ro, &c* It was about two years or more, Since poor Von Clam so high did soar, When in Holland was heard a most terrible sound, And something fell wop right slap on the ground, Ri too la ro, &c. The people all ran together in crowds To see what had fall'n from the clouds ; And they all in amazement were staring around, To see Von Clam sitting bang on the ground. Ri too la ro, &c. They put him to bed but 'twas near a week Before he recovered sufficient to speak; And the first thing he said when he'd taken a swig, 'Twas IVe been to the sun and he burnt off my wig. Ri too la ro, &c Says Yon Clam, From this time, I vow and declare, I never will wear a wig of false hair ; And whene'er I marry * without any sham, My wife shall have me just as I am. Ri too la ro, &c. �4 MEG W Tim MMk 0 ken ye what Meg o' the Mill has gotten, An' ken ye what Meg o' the Mill has gotten ? She has gotten a >o©of wi' a cLaute o' siller, And broken the heart o* the feaiiey Miller. The Miller was strappin, the Miller was imddy ; A heart like a lord, and a hue like a lady: The laird was a widdiefu', bleerit knurl; She's left the guid fellow and ta'<en the churl. The Miller he hocht her ,a heart leal m d losing ; The Laird did address her wi' matter m®w aiaamng, A fine pacing horse wi'a clear chained bridle, A whip by her side, and a bonnie side-saddle. 0 wae on the siller, it is sae {prevailing ; And wae on the love that is -fixed on a m&ileii ! A tocher's nae word in a true lovers parle, But, gie me my love, and a fig for the warl I THE RANTING BOG THE DADDIE O'T. O wha my babie-clouts will buy ? Wha will tent me when I cry ? Wha will kiss me wliare I lie? The ran tin dog the daddie o't.^— Wha will own he did the faut ? Wha will buy my groanin-maut ? Wha will tell me how to ca't ? The rantin dog the daddie o't.— �5 When I m>mt the eceepie chair, Wha will sit beside me there ? Gie me Rab, I seek -mair, The rantin dog the daddie Wha will crack to me my lane ? Wha will make me fidgin fain ? Wha will kiss me o'er again ? The rand n do/ the daddie o't. GILDEROY. Gilderoy was a bonny ooy, Had roses till his shoon ; His stockings were of silken soy, Wi' garters hanging doun. It was, I ween, a cornlie sight To see so trim a boy : He was my joy and heart's delight, My handsome Gilderay. 0 sic twa charming seen lie had! Breath sweet as ouy : He never ware a highland j»laid, But costly silken clothes. He gain'd the love of ladies gay, Nane e'er to him was coy : Ah, wae is me, I mourn tbe day For my dear Gdideroy. My Gilderoy and I were born Baith in ae toun together: �6 We scant were seven years beforn We gan to luve ilk ither: Our daddies and our mammies they Were fill'd wi' mickle joy, To think upon the bridal day Of me and Gilderoy. For Gilderoy, that love of mine, Gude faith, 1 freely bought A wedding sark of Holland fine, Wi' dainty ruffles wrought; And he gied me a wedding ring Which I received w i ' j o y : Nae lad nor lassie e'er could sing Like me and Gilderov. Wi' mickle joy we spent onr prime Till we were baith sixteen. And aft we past the langsome time Amang the leaves sae green : Aft on the banks we'd sit us there, And sweetly kiss and toy ; While he wi1 garlands deck'd my hair, My handsome Gilderoy. Oh that he still had been content Wi' me to lead his life! But, ah, his manfu' heart was bent To stir in feats of strife. And he in many a venturous deed IIis courage bauld wad try; And now this gars my heart to bleed For my dear Gilderoy. �7 And when of me his leave he took, The tears they wat mine ee: I gied him sic a parting look! " My benison gang wi1 thee! God speid thee weel, mine ain dear heart, For gane is a* my joy , My heart is rent, sith we maun part, My handsome Gilderoy." The Queen of Scots possessed nought That my love let me want; For cow and ewe he to me brought, And e'en whan they were scant; All these did h onestly possess He never did annoy, Who never fail cl to pay their cess To my love Gilderoy. My Gilderoy, baith far and near, Was fear'd in every town ; And bauldly bear awa the gear, Of mony a lawland loun. For man to man durst meet him nane. He was sae brave a boy: At length wi' numbers he was tane— My winsome Gilderoy. Waeworth the loons that made the law* To hang a man for gear; To reave of life for sic a cause As stealing horse or mare! Had not their laws been made sae strick I ne'er had lost my j o y ; �6 Wi* sorrow ne'er had* wat my cheek For my dear Gilderoy. Gif Gilderoy had done amiss He mougiit hae banisiit been ;— Ah, what sair cruelty is this, To lang sic handsome men ! To hang the flower o' Scottish land, Sae sweet and fair a boy :— Nae lady had sae white a hand A3 thee, my Gilderoy. Of Gilderoy sae fear'd they were, Wi' irons his limbs they strung; To Edinborow led him there, And on a gallows hung. They liung him high aboon the rest, He was sae bauld a boy ; There died the youth whom I loo'd best, My handsome Gilderoy. Sune as lie yielded up his breath I bare his corps away ; Wi* tears, that trickled for his death, I wash'd his comelie clay; And siker in a grave right deep I laid the dear lo'ed boy: And now for ever I maun weep, My winsome Gilderoy. FI N I S. � Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Four excellent songs. The wonderful wig. Meg o' the mill. The rantin dog the daddie o't. Gilderoy. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1840-1850 per National Library of Scotland Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9943830933505154">s0615b43</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. The wonderful wig. Meg o' the mill. The rantin dog the daddie o't. Gilderoy. Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages 14 cm Description An account of the resource Woodcut image of a boy with a stick playing with a dog on title-page Accrual Method The method by which items are added to a collection. Purchased through the Jane Grier Family Trust. 2012 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Burns, Robert, 1759-1796 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For higher quality reproductions, contact, Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/a875dd3fa2340a809114a8e19f3f59fe.pdf 50859027d7628add23a8fdb243068087 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/0046a940185cbec28876c9b61aad05d7.jpg 9dace09bfc62fd920cafc5c69a6863a9 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/aa338f7ab65dce00745474290c2cfeab.jpg b9387f9119f23d5c29ccf116d926a4b4 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/80fe3eb9190bb9e5ef02285fef8197cb.jpg 88028b75724c17e2d9a8324f556c6b43 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/b6197f42a902f3e4668e8f4e14a3ce4f.jpg 09d751c524b36fa4f9675d31b531da2f https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/69cbf02659e6fc13c493b6e92f0e0df1.jpg c31e44f5a24380d5e96099f018c166c1 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/1935d4de71e7f293d17b23c2ca5f204a.jpg 4394f7df4e86ec26d64003884155fa73 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/84887b4f7b36adbc87440d89b690521b.jpg e9bcd9c1a0922a989a488ccc4d71b9b2 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/8c1ec684afe01156cb9109ed542b0067.jpg 33759e0c56a3c8a7d40529899f6c33df Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Tam O'Shanter. A Tale. Of Brownyis and of Bogilis full is this Book. Gawin Douglas. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Burns, Robert, 1759-1796 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1825 Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953133973505154">s0042b27</a> Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. A bound collection of 37 chapbooks; Chapbook #5 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For higher quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Paisley: Printed for G. Caldwell, Jun. Bookseller https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/12fd28ab5d91b456bd7168005ee232f6.pdf 07632d5f0eb0840516c4f1682471ba06 PDF Text Text D A I N T Y DAVIE. Sic a Wife as Willie had. THE BLUE-EYED LASSIE. The Rantin Dog the Daddie o't. A plague on all musty old lubbers. O GLASGOW: my love is like the red red rose. PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS. �DAINTY DAVIE. Now rosy May comes inwi'flowers, T o deck her gay green spreading bow'rs; And now comes in my happy hours, To wander wi' my Davie. Meet me on the warlock kNowe, Dainty Davie, dainty Davie; There i'll spend the day wi' you, My ain kind-hearted Davie. The crystal waters round us fa', T h e merry birds are lovers a', T h e scented breezes round us blaw, A-wand'ring wi' my Davie. Meet me, &c. When purple morning starts the hare, T o steal upon her early fare, T h e n thro' the dews I will repair, T o meet my faithfu' Davie. Meet me, &c. When day, expiring in the west, T h e curtain draws o' nature's rest, �3 I'll to his arms that I lo'e best, And that's my ain dear Davie. Meet me, &c. Sic A WIFE AS W I L L I E HAD. Willie Wastle dwalt on Tweed, The spot they ca'd it Linkumdoddie, Willie was a wabster guid, Could stown a clue wi' ony bodie; He had a wife was dour and din, Tinkler Maggie was her mither; Sic a wife as Willie had, I wadna gie a button for her. She has an e'e, she has but ane, The cat has twa the very colour; Five rusty teeth, forbye a stump, A clapper tongue wad deave a miller; A whiskin beard about her mou, Her nose and chin they threaten ither; Sic a wife, &c. She's bow-hough'd, she's hein-shinn'd, Ae limpin leg a hand-breed shorter; She's twisted right, she's twisted left. To balance fair in ilka quarter: �4 She has hump upon her breast; The twin o' that upon her shouther; Sic a wife, &c. Auld baudrous by the ingle sits, And wi' her loof her face a-washin; But Willie'swifeisnaesawtrig, She dights hergrumziewi'ahushion; Her walie nieves like midden creels, Her face wad fyle the Logan water; Sic a wife, &c. THE BLUE-EYED LASSIE. I gaed a waefu' gate yestreen, A gate I fearI'lldearlyrue; I gat my death frae sweet een, Twalovelyeeno'bonnyblue. 'Twas not her golden ringlets bright, Her lips like roses wat wi' dew, Her heaving bosom lily-white;— It was her een' sae bonny blue. Shecharm'dmysaulIwistnahow; And ay the stoud, the deadly wound, Cam frae her een sae bonnie blue. �5 But spare to speak, and spare to'speed, She'll aiblins listen to my vow: Should she refuse I'll lay my dead To her twa een sae bomnie blue. THE RANTIN DOG THE DADDIE O'T O wha my babbie clouts will buy? Wha will tent me when I cry ? Wha will kiss me whar I lie? The rantin dog the daddie o't.— Wha will own he did the faut? Wha will buy mygroaninmaut? Wha willtellmehowtoca't? The rantin dog the daddie o't.— When I mount the creepie chair, Wha will sit beside me there? Gie me Rob, I seek nae mair, The rantin dog the daddie o't. Wha will crack to me my lane? Wha will mak me fidgin fain? Wha will kiss me owre again? The rantin dog the daddie o't.— �6 NOTHING LIKE GROG/ A plague on those musty old lubbers Who tell us to fast and to think, And patiently bear with life's rubbers, With nothing but water to drink; A can of good stuff Had they swigg'd it, Would soon ay have set them agog; In spite of the rules Of the schools, The old fools Would have constantly swigg'd it, And sworn there was nothing like grog My Father, when last I from Guinea Return'd with abundance of wealth, Cry'd, Jack, never be such a ninny Astfbdrink; says I, Father your health; So I tipp'd him the stuff and he twigg'd it, And it soon set th' old codger agog; So he swigg'd, and mother, And sister and brother, And all of us swigg'd it, And we swore there was nothing like grog. �7 T'other day when the chaplain was preaching, Behind him I curiously slunk, And while he us our duty was teaching As how we should never get drunk, I tipp'd him a can and he twigg'd it, And it soon set his rev'rence agog; So he swigg'd and Dick swigg'd, And Ben swigg'd and I swigg'd, And all of us swigg'd it, And we swore there was nothing like grog. Then trust me there's nothing like drinking, So pleasant on this side the grave, I t keeps the unhappy from thinking, And makes e'en more valiant the brave As for me, since the moment I swigg'd it, The good stuff has so set me agog, That sick or well, late or early, Wind foully or fairly, I've constantly swigg'd it, And dem'me there's nothing like grog. �T H EREDREDROSE. O That'snewlysprunginJune, Omyluveislikethemelodie myluveislikearedredrose, Asfairartthough,mybonnielass, So deepinloveamI; AndIwilllovetheestill,my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry. Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, And rocks melt i' the sun,. And I will love thee still, my dear, And fare thee weel, my only luve, And fare thee weel a while! Ami I will comeagain,myluve, Tho' it were ten thousand mile. F I N I S. W � https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/178a0bf9ec09d76c19b7a2e9de1f69d1.jpg a00781b6c3087fcbd2d9b6959c2df088 Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 2833 Width 1781 Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Dainty Davie. Sic a Wife as Willie had. The Blue-eyed Lassie. The Rantin Dog the Daddie o't. A plague on all musty old lubbers. O my love is like the red red rose. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1823 Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953134473505154">s0100b01</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Sic a Wife as Willie had. The Blue-eyed Lassie. The Rantin Dog the Daddie o't. A plague on all musty old lubbers. O my love is like the red red rose. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Burns, Robert, 1759-1796 Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Chapbook #42 in a bound collection of 77 chapbooks Subject The topic of the resource Ballads and songs Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Canada Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. <a title="University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks" href="http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/">University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks&nbsp;</a> <a title="National Library of Scotland" href="http://www.nls.uk/">National Library of Scotland</a> Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/b44e3b2a7120c046edd3d90a93381eb5.pdf 8f12e719139b587b69f5b0144276c409 PDF Text Text THE M A R R I A G E OF ROBIN REDBREAST A N D THE WREN SALTIRE CHAPBOOK No. 4 Chosen by George Scott-Moncrieff Designed by Joan Hassall Price 1/- ��THE M A R R I A G E OF ROBIN REDBREAST A N D THE WREN �T H E R E was an auld gray Poussie Baudrons, and she gaed awa' down by a water-side, and there she saw wee Robin Redbreast happin' on a brier ; and Poussie Baudrons says : 'Where's tu gaun, wee Robin?' And wee Robin says : 'I'm gaun awa' to the king to sing him a sang this guid Yule m o r n i n g . ' And Poussie Baudrons says : 'Come here, wee Robin, and I '11 let you see a bonny white ring round my neck.' But wee Robin says: 'Na, na ! gray Poussie Baudrons ; na, na ! Ye worry't the wee mousie; but ye'se no worry me.' 2 �So wee Robin flew awa' till he came to a fail fauld-dike, and there he saw a gray greedy gled sitting. And gray greedy gled says : 'Where's tu gaun, wee Robin ?' And wee Robin says : 'I'm gaun awa' to the king to sing him a sang this guid Yule m o r n i n g . ' And gray greedy gled says : 'Come here, wee Robin, and I'll let ye see a bonny feather in my wing.' But wee Robin says : 'Na, na ! gray greedy gled ; na, na ! Ye pookit a' the wee lintie ; but ye'se no pook me.' 3 �So wee Robin flew awa' till he came to the cleugh o' a craig, and there he saw slee Tod Lowrie sitting. And slee Tod Lowrie says : 'Where's tu gaun, wee Robin?' And wee Robin says : 'I'm gaun awa' to the king to sing him a sang this guid Yule morning.' And slee Tod Lowrie says : 'Come here, wee Robin, and I'll let ye see a bonny spot on the tap o' my tail.' But wee Robin says : 'Na, na ! slee Tod Lowrie ; na, na ! Ye worry't the wee lammie; but ye'se no worry me.' 4 �So wee Robin flew awa' till he came to a bonny burn-side, and there he saw a wee callant sitting. And the wee callant says : 'Where's tu gaun, wee Robin?' And wee Robin says : 'I'm gaun awa' to the king to sing him a sang this guid Yule morning.' And the wee callant says : 'Come here, wee Robin, and I'll gie ye a wheen grand moolins out o' my pooch.' But wee Robin says : 'Na, na ! wee callant ; na, na ! Ye speldert the gowdspink ; but ye's no spelder me.' 5 �So wee Robin flew awa' till he came to the king, and there he sat on a winnock sole, and sang the king a bonny sang. And the king says to the queen: 'What'll we gie to wee Robin for singing us this bonny sang?' And the queen says to the king : 'I think we'll gie him the wee wran to be his wife.' 6 �So wee Robin and the wee wran were married, and the king, and the queen, and a' the court danced at the waddin' ; syne he flew awa' hame to his ain water-side, and happit on a brier. 7 �THE above little story is taken down from the recitation of Mrs. Begg, the sister of Robert Burns. The poet was in the habit of telling it to the younger members of his father's household, and Mrs. Begg's impression is, that he made it for their amusement. — From Robert Chambers's P O P U L A R R H Y M E S of SCOTLAND. 8 ��Printed by R. and R. Clark of Edinburgh Published by THE SALTIRE SOCIETY Gladstone's Land, Lawnmarket, Edinburgh. First published 1945 Reprinted 1948, 1951 The text is set in 12 pt. Scotch Roman � https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/a135f90e5f2509f1bb27ad586bf38a1f.jpg fa523f1c3bd8c40b330e647ea1efb7c3 Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 2948 Width 1926 Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Marriage of Robin Redbreast and The Wren Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1951 Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923361543505154">s0100b46</a> Abstract A summary of the resource. A short folktale taken from Robert Chambers’s Popular Rhymes of Scotland, purportedly based on a recitation of Mrs. Begg, Robert Burns’ sister, and attributed to Burns himself (8). The story tells the tale of a robin who cheerfully bypasses several characters who would have enjoyed him for supper on his way to sing the king a Yule-tide morning song. The king and queen are so pleased with the robin’s song that they decide to reward him with the wren for his bride, and the entire court dances and sings at their wedding celebration. Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Saltire Chapbook No. 4 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Burns, Robert, 1759-1796 Extent The size or duration of the resource. 8 pages 13 cm Description An account of the resource Price 1/- printed on title-page. "The text is set in 12 pt. Scotch Roman" printed on last page. Quoted from page 8: "The above little story is taken down from the recitation of Mrs. Begg, the sister of Robert Burns. The poet was in the habit of telling it to the younger members of his father's household, and Mrs. Begg's impression is, that he made it for their amusement. — From Robert Chambers's POPULAR RHYMES of SCOTLAND." Subject The topic of the resource Courtship and Marriage Chapbooks - Scotland - Edinburgh Fairy Tales & Folklore Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For higher quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Edinburgh: Saltire Society Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/40387bc5bf213d5ebedc536a0d24ab4b.jpg 1ca14166501778e5eecbba51d94c9e3d Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 3072 Width 1953 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/50c5af17bbdac9f0cba252c7e238744f.pdf 32ba359b598f50c426389b36209643e8 PDF Text Text CONTAINING AS SUNG BY WILSON, T E M P L E T O N , 8cC, GLASGOW PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS. �A Highland laddie heard of war, And sae will we yet, Argyle is my name, * Bonnie Jean, Bonnie Lesley, Caledonians, brave and bold, Caller herriu', Ca' the ewes to the knowes, Connel and Flora, Donald 0'Dundee, Happy Frien'ship, How early I woo'd thee, I hae a wife o' my ain, I'll aye ca' in by yon town, My only jo and dearie O, My wife has ta'en the gee, Oh open the door, some pity to show, O poortith cauld, O Tibbie I hae seen the day............. Tarn Glen, The bonnie Scotch lassie, The broom 0' the Cowdenknowes, The bumper, The ewie wi' the crooked horn,.... The fair maid 0' Perth, The gallant weaver, The spinning-wheel, The widow sae young...... Tho' we ne'er should meet, Tullochgorum, Will ye go to the ewe-bughts, Marion, Wilt thou be my dearie, Young Jessie, PAGE ....••• • .i H3 123 H7 113 131 114 130 122 132 120 129 132 127 125 126 125 118 121 116 128 113 115 122 124 121 - 129 132 H* 131 133 127 119 120 �113 A HIGHLAND LADDIE HEARD OF WAR. Air—" Merrily danced the Quaker's wife Key-note G. A HIGHLAND laddie heard of war, Which set his heart in motion ; He heard the distant cannon roar— He saw the smiling ocean. Come weel, come woe, to sea he'd go, And left, one morning early, Lochlomond Ben and the willow glen, And Jenny that loved him dearly. He wandered east, he wandered south, But joy he could not find it, But he found out this wholesome truth, And had the sense to mind it: Of a' the earth, the bonnie North, To cherish late and early ; Lochlomond Ben and the willow glen, And Jenny that loved him dearly. -o®o— THE BONNIE SCOTCH LASSIE. Words hy A . RODGER. Music by W . I I . LITHGOW. LET them boast of their maids on Italia's fair strand, Or the green Isles of Greece, once so free, O dearer by far, in my own native land, Is my bonnie Scotch lassie to me. Though England may vaunt of her daughters as fair, Tho' bland Erin's beauties may be, Give me the soft blush, and the heart-winning air, That won me, dear Jessy, to thee. Let them boast of their maids, &c. In bright sunny climes many beauties I've seen, Of high and of humble degree, But in form or in feature, in mind or in mien, I've ne'er met with maiden like thee. Let them boast of their maids, &c. Tho* the mild blushing red from thv soft cheek had fled, Tho' grief had bedimmed thy bright e'e, Yet thy heart and thy mind, by each virtue refined, Would endear thee more fondly to me. Let them boast of their rnaids, &c. Tho* they boast of their maids in Italia's gay glades, Or the green Isles of Greece, once so free, Yet no more will I roam, after beauty, from home, But remain, my dear Jessy, with thee. Let them boast of their maids, &c. �114 CALEDONIANS, BRAVE AND BOLD. H ords by GEORGE MTARREIT. Music by T . COOK. Air—" Whistle o'er the lave (ft." Key-note F. brave and bold, Heroes, never bought or sold, Sons of sires who died of old, To gild a martial story ! Beauty claims the warrior's shield, In her cause the death-sword wield, Draw, and join the battle-field, On, on to death or glory ! Who would shun the glorious strife ? Where's the slave would cling to life. When father, husband, daughter, wife, For prompt relief implore ye ? Who would yield soft woman's charms, To bless a ruffian foeman's arms ? Perish the thought! sound your alarms! On, on to death or glory ! Here's the path to sluggard peace, Here's the haunt of dastard ease, That sinks to death by slow degrees, Unhonoured, weak, and hoary; But ye, who court a brighter name, This way lies the road to fame ! Follow, then, through flood and flame, And shout for death or glory ! THE WIDOW SAE YOUNG. Words by CAPTAIN CHARLES GRAY. Music by G . F . GRAHAM. MAY blessings yet fa' on the widow sae young, May blessings yet fa' on the widow sae young; Her hopes ha'e been wither'd, her heart sairly wrung— Ah ! 'tis waesome to look on a widow sae young ! Wi' a glance o' the e'e her misfortune we trace, In the cap that encircles her bonnie sweet face, That ance glow'd wi' gladness—how meek and resign'd, Though the shadows of sorrow aft brood o'er her mind. A few fleeting months saw her blythsome and gay, But death reft her loved one for ever away; O think 011 the anguish—the agony keen— When her grief and his grave-turf were baith alike green. Wer't no for her darling the widow wad dee, The bonnie wee bairnie that sits on her knee, That smiles in her pale face, and pu's at her hair,— But it's sae like its daddy, she canna despair. CALEDONIANS, �115 THE BROOM 0* CO WDENKN0WE8. Very old. Key-note D. How blythe was I ilk morn to see My swain come o'er the hill! He leap't the burn, and flew to me, I met him wi' good will. O, the broom, the bonnie, bonnie broom, The broom o' the Cowdenknowes; I wish I were wi' my dear swain Wi' his pipe and my ewes. I neither wanted ewe nor lamb, While his flock near me lay; lie gather'd in my sheep at night, And cheer'd me a' the day. 0, the broom, &c. lie tun'd his pipe and reed sae sweet, The birds stood list'ning by ; E'en the dull cattle stood and gaz'd, Charm'd with his melody. 0, the broom, &c. While thus we spent our time, by turns, Betwixt our flocks and play, I envied not the fairest dame, Tho' ne'er sae rich and gay. O, the broom, &c. Hard fate ! that I should banish'd be, Gang heavily and mourn, Because I lo'ed the kindest swain That ever yet was born. O, the broom, &c. He did oblige me every hour: Could I but faithful be? He staw my heart: could I refuse Whate'er he ask'd of me ? 0, the broom, die. My doggie, and my little kit, That held my wee soup whey, My plaidy, brooch, and crooked stick, May now lie useless by. O, the broom, &c. Adieu, ye Cowdenknowes, adieu I Fareweel a' pleasures there ; Ye gods ! restore to me my swain, Is a' I crave or care. O, the broom, &c. �6 O, TIBBIE, I HAE SEEN THE DAY. Words by BURNS. Air— InvercaulcCs Reel" Key-note Q. 11 I hae seen the day Ye wadna been sae shy ; For lack o' gear ye lightly me, But troth I carena by. Yestreen I met you on the moor, Ye spak' na, but gaed by like stoure, Ye geek at me because I'm poor, But feint a hair care I. 0, Tibbie, &c. I doubt na, lass, but ye may think, Because ye hae the name o' clink, That ye can please me at a wink, Whene'er ye like to try. O, Tibbie, &c. But sorrow tak* him that's sae mean. Although his pouch o> coin were clean, Wha follows ony saucy queen, That looks sae proud and high. O, Tibbie, &c. Although a lad were e'er sae smart. If that he want the yellow dirt, Ye'll cast your head anither airfc, And answer him fu' dry. O, Tibbie, &c. But if he hae the name o* gear, Ye'll fasten to him like a brier, Tho' hardly he, for sense or lear, Be better than the kye. O, Tibbie, <fec. But, Tibbie, lass, tak' my advice,— Your daddie's gear makes you sae nice, The deil a ane wad speir your price, Were ye as poor as I. O, Tibbie, &c. There lives a lass in yonder park, I wadna gie her in her sark, For thee, wi- a* thy thousand mark— Ye need na look sae high. 0, Tibbie, &c. O , TIBBIE, �117 ARGYLE IS MY NAME. Words ly JOHN, Duke of Argyle. Air—" Bannocks d larley mealP Key-note G. is my name, and you may think it strange, To live at a court, yet never to change ; A' falsehood and flattery I do disdain, In my secret thoughts nae guile does remain. My king and my country's faes I have fac'd, In city or battle I ne'er was disgrac'd; I do every thing for my country's weal. And I'll feast upon bannocks o' barley meal. I will quickly lay down my sword and my gun, An' put my blue bonnet an' my plaidie on, Wi' my silk tartan hose, an' leather-heeled shoon, An' then I shall look like a sprightly loon. An* when I'm sae dress'd, frae tap to tae, To meet my dear Maggie I vow I will gae, Wi' target an' hanger hung down to my heel, An' I'll feast upon bannocks o' barley meal. I'll buy a rich present to gi'e to my dear, A ribbon o' green for my Maggie to wear, An' mony thing brawer than that, I declare, Gin' she will gang wi' me to Paisley fair. An' when we are married I'll keep her a cow, An' Maggie will milk when I gang at the plou', We'll live a' the winter on beef and lang kail, And we'll feast upon bannocks o' barley meal. Gin Maggie should chance to bring me a son, He's fight for his king as his daddy has done ; We'll hie him to Flanders some breeding to learn, An' then hame to Scotland and get him a farm. An' there we will live by our ain industrie, An' wha'll be sae happy's my Maggie and me ? We'll a' grow as fat as a Noraway seal, Wi' our feasting on bannocks o' barley meal. Then, fare ye weel, citizens, noisy men, Wha jolt 10 your coaches to Drury-lane ; Ye bucks o' Bear-garden, I bid ye adieu, For drinking and swearing I leave them to you. I'm fairly resolved for a country life, An' nae langer will live in hurry or strife ; I'll aff to the Highlands as hard's I can reel, An' I'll whang at the bannocks o' barley meal. ARGYLE �118 OH ! OPEN THE DOOR. Words by BURKS. Key-note D. OH, open the door, some pity to show, Oh, open the door to me, oh ! Tho' thou hast been false, I'll ever prove true ; Oh, open the door to me, oh ! Oh ! cauld isfcheblast upon my pale cheek, But caulder thy love for me, oh ; The frost that freezes the life at my heart, Is nought to my pains frae thee, oh ! The wan moon is setting behind the white wave, And time is setting with me, oh ; False friends, false love, farewell! for mair I'll ne'er trouble them nor thee, oh! She has open'd the door, she has open'd it wide, She sees liis pale corse on the plain, oh ! My true love! she cried, and sunk down by his side, Never to rise again, oh ! BONN! E°JE AN. Words by BURNS. Air—" Willie was a wanton wag" Key-note, B fiaL T H E R E was a lass, and she was fair, At kirk and market to be seen ; When a' the fairest maids were met, The fairest maid was bonnie Jean. And aye she wrought her mammy's wark, And aye she sang sae merrilie; The blythest bird upon the bush, Had ne'er a lighter heart than she. But hawks will rob the tender joys That bless the little lintwhite's nest, And frost will blight the fairest flower, And love will break the soundest rest. Young Robie was the brawest lad, The flower and pride of a' the glen ; And he had owsen, sheep, and kye, And wanton naggies nine or ten. He gaed wi' Jeanie to the tryst, He danced wi' Jeanie on the down, And lang ere witless Jeanie wist, Her heart was tint, her peace was stown. As in the bosom of the stream The moonbeam dwells at dewy e'en, So trembling, pure, was tender love Within the breast o' bonnie Jean. �And now she works her mammy's wark, And aye she sighs wi' care and pain ; Yet wistna what her ail might be, Or what wad make her weel again. But didna Jeanie's heart loup light, And didna joy blink in her e'e, As Robie tauld a tale o' love, Ae e'ening on the lily lea? The sun was sinking in the west, The birds sang sweet in ilka grove, His cheek to hers he fondly prest, And whisper'd thus his tale o' love : 0, Jeanie fair, I love thee dear ! 0, canst thou think to fancy me ? Or wilt thou leave thy mammy's cot, And learn to tent the farms wi' me ? " At barn nor byre thou shalt na drudge, Or naething" else to trouble thee, But stray amang the heather-bells, And tent che waving corn wi' me." Now what could artless Jeanie do ? She hadna will to say him na ; At length she blush'd a sweet consent, And love was — between them twa. aye WILT THOU BE MY DEARIE? Words by BURNS. Air—" The Souter's Dochter." Key-note Q, W J L T thou be my dearie ? When sorrow wrings thy gentle heart, O, wilt thou let me cheer thee ? By the treasure of my soul, And that's the love I bear thee, I swear and vow, that only thou Shall ever be my dearie: Only thou, I swear and vow, Shali ever be my dearie. Lassie, say thou lo'es me ; Or, if thou wiltna be my ain Savna thou'lt refuse me. If it winna, canna be, Thou for thine may choose me ; Let me, lassie, quickly die, Trusting that thou lo'es me. r �120 YOUNG JESSIE. Words by BURNS. Air— Bonnie DundeeKey-note E minor. T R U E hearted was he, the sad swain O' the Yarrow, And fair are the maids on the banks o' the Ayr ; But by the sweet side o* the Nith's winding river, Are lovers as faithfu' and maidens as fair. To equal young Jessie seek Scotland all over, To equal young Jessie you seek it in vain ; Grace, beauty, and elegance, fetter her lover, And maidenly modesty fixes the chain. Oh ! fresh is the rose in the gay dewy morning, And sweet is the lily at evening close, But in the fair presence o' lovely young Jessie, Unseen is the lily, unheeded the rose. Love sits in her smile a wizard ensnaring, Enthroned in her e'en he delivers his law ; And still to her charms she alone is a stranger, Her modest demeanour's the jewel of a'. DONALD 0' DUNDEE. Key-note G. YOUNG Donald is the blithest lad That e'er made love to me ; Whene'er he's by, my heart is glad, He seems so gay and free. Then on his pipe he plays so sweet, And in his plaid he looks so neat, It cheers my heart at eve to meet Young Donald o' Dundee. Whene'er I gang to yonder grove, Young Sandy follows me, And lain he wants to be my love, But, ah ! it canna be. Though mither frets both air and late For me to w ed this youth I hate, There's none need hope to gain young Kate But Donald o* Dundee. When last we ranged the banks of Tay, The ring he showed to me ; And bade me name the bridal day, Then happy would he be. I ken the youth will aye prove kind ; Nae mair my mither will I mind ; Mess John to me shall quickly bind Young Donald o' Dundee. 11 7 �221 O POORTITH CAUI/D. Words by BURNS. Key-note C minor. 0 , POORTITH cauld a n d restless l o v e , Ye wreck my peace between ye; Yet poortith a' I could forgie, An't werena for my Jeanie. O, why should fate sic pleasures have> Life's dearest bands untwining; Or why sae sweet a flow'r as love Depend on fortune's shining ? This warld's wealth, when I think on Its pride, and a' the lave o't; Fie, fie on silly coward man, That he should be the slave o't. O, why, &c. Her e'en, sae bonnie blue, betray How she repays my passion ; But prudence is her o'erword aye— She talks of rank and fashion. O, why, &c. 0, wha can prudence think upon, And sic a lassie by him ? O, wha can prudence think upon, And sae in love as I am ? O, why, &c How blest the humble cotter's fate . He woos his simple dearie ; The silly bogles, wealth and state, Can never make him eerie. O, why, &c. —=o®oTHE FAIR MAID OF PERTH. Key-note B flat. Fern Perth, as I wander'd the meadows among. I siw a young lassie trip blithely along ; lie] figure was graceful, and in her light waist {* ortte dew-dropping roses were carelessly placed, the pluck'd off a rose from the stem of its birth, A d cried," Take this rose from the fair maid of Perth." n She pluck'd off a rose, &c. I told her I loved her sincerely; and then i promised at moonlight to meet her again; And we met where the burnies all silently glide, And I told her I'd make her my ain bonnie bride : Andjmy vow I will keep, for beauty and worth Arehiine, if I marry the fair maid of Perth. �122 CA' THE EWES TO THE KNOWES, Author tmknown. Key-note B minor. CA* the ewes to the knowes, Ca* them whare the heather grows, Ca' them whare the burnie rows, My bonnie dearie. As I gaed down the water side, There I met my shepherd lad, He row'd me sweetly in his plaid, And ca'd me his dearie. Will ye gang down the waterside, And see the waves sae gently glide, Beneath the hazels spreading wide ? The moon it shines fu' clearly. Ye shall get gowns and ribbons meet, Cauf leather shoon to thy white feet, And in my arms ye'se lie and sleep ; And ye shall be my dearie. If ye'll but stand to what ye've said, I'll gang wi' you, my shepherd lad ; And ye may rowe me in your plaid, And I shall be your dearie. While waters wimple to the sea, W»hile day blinks in the lift sae hie, Till clay-cauld death shall blin' my e'e, Ye shall be my dearie. — —=D@C=— THE BUMPER. Words by J O H N DONALD CARRICE:. S O M E rail against drinking, and say 'tis a sin To tipple the juice of the vine ; But as 'tis allow'd that we all have our faults, 1 wish no other fault may be mine. But mark me, good fellows, I don't mean to say, That always to tipple is right; But 'tis wisdom to drown the dull cares of the day, In a bowl with old cronies at night. How soothing it is when we bumper it up, To a friend on a far distant shore, Or how sweetly it tastes, when we flavour the cup, With the name of the maid we adore ! Then here's to the maid, and here's to the friend, May they always prove true to their plight; May their days glide as smooth and as merrily rouni, As the bumpers we pledge them to-night. �123 AND SAE WILL WE YET, Words by W A L T E R WATSON. SIT ye down here, my cronies, and gie me your crack, Let the win' tak* the care o' this life on its back ; Our hearts to despondency we never will submit, For we've aye been provided for, and sae will we yet. And sae will we yet, &c. Let the miser delight in the hoarding of pelf, Since he has not the soul to enjoy it himself: Since the bounty of providence is new ev'ry day, As we journey through life, let us live by the way. Let us live by the way, &c. Then bring us a tankard o' nappy good ale, To comfort our hearts and enliven the tale ; We'll aye be the merrier the langer that we sit, [yet. For we ve drank thegither mony a time, and sae will we And sae will we yet, &c. Success to the farmer, and prosper his plough, Rewarding his eident toils a' the year through : Our seedtime and harvest we ever will get, [yet. For we've lippen'd aye to providence, and sae will we And sae will we yet, &c. Long live the Queen, and happy may she be, And success to her forces by land and by sea: Her enemies to triumph we never will permit, Britons aye have been victorious, and sae will they yet. And sae will they yet, &c. Let the glass keep its course, and go merrily roun', For the sun has to rise, tho' the moon it goes down. Till the house be rinnin' roun' about, 'tis time enough to flit, When we fell, we aye got up again, and sae will we yet. And sae will we yet, &c. THE EWIE WI' THE CROOKED HORN. Words by the REV. JOHN SKINNER. Key-note O. OH, were I able to rehearse My ewie's praise in prose or verse, I'd sound it out as lang an' fierce, As ever piper's drone could blaw. My ewie wi' the crooked horn, A' that kend her could hae sworn, Sic a ewie ne'er was born, Here about or far awa. �I2i I neither needed tar nor keel To mark her upon hip or heel, Her crooked horn it did as weel To ken her by amang them a'. The ewie, &c. Cauld or hunger never dang her, Wind or rain could never wrang her ; Ance she lay a week and langer, Out aneath a wreath o' snaw. The ewie, &c. I looked aye at even for her, For fear the foumart might devour her, Or some mishanter had come o'er her, Gin the beastie bade awa. The ewie, <fcc. Yet, Monday last, for a' my keeping, I canna speak it without greeting, A villain came when I was sleeping, And stow my ewie, liorn an' a'. The ewie, I sought her sair upon the morn ; And down beneath a buss o' thorn I got my ewie's crooked horn ; But, ah ! my ewie was awa. The ewie, &c. But an' I had the loon that did it, I hae sw orn as weel as said it, Though a' the warld should forbid it, I wad gie his neck a thraw. The ewie, <fce For a' the claith that we hae worn, Frae her and hers sae aften shorn, The loss o' her we could hae borne, Had fair strae death ta'en her awa. The ewie, &c. But, silly thing, to loose her life Aneath a greedy villain's knife, I'm really fear'd that our gudewife Sail never win aboon't ava. The ewie, &c. Oh, a' ye bards about Kinghorn, Call up your muses, let them mourn— Our ewie wi' the crooked horn Is stown frae us, and fell'd an' a'. The ewie, <fec. r �125 MY VYIFE HAS TA'EN THE GEE. Author unknown. Key-note D minor. A F R I E N D o' mine came here yestreen, And he wad hae me down, To drink a pot of ale wi' him, In the neist borough town. But oh ! alake ! it was the waur, And sair the waur for me ; For lang or e'er that I came hame, My wife had ta'en the gee. We sat sae late, and drank sae stout,— The truth I'll tell to you,— That lang or ever midnight came, We were a' roaring fu\ My wife sits by the fireside, And the tear blinds aye her e'e ; The ne'er a bed will she gae to, But sit and tak' the gee. In the morning soon when I came doun, The ne'er a word she spak'; But mony a sad and sour look And aye her head she'd shake. " My dear," quo' I, " what aileth thee, To look sae sour at me ? I'll never do the like again, If ye'll ne'er tak' the gee." When that she heard, she ran, she flang Her arms about my neck, And twenty kisses in a crack ; And poor wee thing she grat. " If you'll ne'er do the like again, But stay at hame wi' me, I'll lay my life l'se be the wife That's never tak' the gee." I'LL AYE CA' IN BY YON TOWN. Words by BURNS. Tune—"Tilgang nae mair to yon town." Key I'LL aye ca' in by yon town, And by yon garden green again ; I'll aye ca' in by yon town, And see my bonnie Jean again. There's nane sail ken, there's nane sail guess, What brings me back the gate again, But she my fairest faithfu' lass, And stownlins we shall meet again. J*. note F �126 She'll wander by the aiken-tree, When trysting time draws near again ; And when her lovely form I see, O haith, she's doubly dear again ! I'll aye ca' in by yon town, And by yon garden green again ; I'll aye ca' in by yon town, And see my bonnie Jean again. MY ONLY JO AND DEARIE, O. IVords by RICHARD GALL. Key-note D mitwr* THY cheek is o* the rose's hue, My only jo and dearie, 0 ; Thy neck is like the siller dew, Upon the bank sae briery, 0 ; Thy teeth are o' the ivory, 0 sweet's the twinkle o' thine e'e, Nae joy, nae pleasure blinks on mo, My only jo and dearie, O. The birdie sings upon the thorn Its sang o* joy fu' cheery, O, Rejoicing in the simmer morn, Nae care to make it eerie, O. Ah, little kens the sangster sweet Aught o' the care I hae to meet, That gars my restless bosom beat, My only jo and dearie, O. When we were bairnies on yon brae, And youth was blinkin' bonnie, O, Aft we would daff the lee lang day, Our joys fu' sweet and monie, O ; Aft I would chase thee ower the lea, And round about the thorny tree, Or pu' the wild flowers a' for thee, My only jo and dearie, O. 1 hae a wish I canna tine, 'Mang a' the cares that grieve me, 0 A wish that thou wert ever mine, And never mair to leave me, O ; Then I would dawt thee nicht and day, Nae ither warldly care I'd hae, 'Till life's warm stream forgat to play, My only jo and dearie, O. �17 I H A E A W I F E 0> M Y AIN. Words by BURNS. Tune—" NaebodyKey-note I HAE a wife o' my ain, I'll partake wi' naebody ; I'll tak' cuckold frae nane, I'll gie cuckold to naebody. I hae a penny to spend, There—thanks to naebody ; I hae naething to lend— I'll borrow frae naebody. I am naebody's lord— I'll be slave to naebody ; I hae a gude broad sword, I'll tak' dunts frae naebody. I'll be merry and free, I'll be sad for naebody; If naebody care for me, I'll care for naebody. -OSCsTHE EWE-BUGIITS. D minor. Author unknown. Words and Air very old. Key-note D minor, ye go to the ewe-bughts, Marion, And wear in the sheep wi' me ? The sun shines sweet, my Marion, But nae half sae sweet as thee? The sun shines sweet, my Marion, But nae half sae sweet as thee. There's gowd in your garters, Marion, And silk on your white hause-bane; Fu' fain wad I kiss my Marion, At e'en when I come hame. There's braw lads in Earnslaw, Marion, Wha gape, and glow'r with their e'e, At kirk, when they see my Marion ; But nane of them lo'es like me. I've nine milk ewes, my Marion, A cow and a brawney quey; I'll gie them a' to my Marion, Just on her bridal-day. And ye'se get a green sey apron, And waistcoat of the London brown, And wow but ye will be vap'ring, Whene'er ye gang to the town, WILL �128 I'm young and stout, my Marion, Nane dances like me on the green; And gin ye forsake me, Marion, I'll e'en gae draw up wi' Jean. Sae put on your parlins, Marion, And kyrtle o' the cramasie ; And soon as my chin has nae hair on, I shall come west and see ye. TAM GLEN. Words by BURNS. Air—" Tam Glen." Key-note E minor. MY heart is a breaking, dear tittie, Some counsel unto me come len'; To anger them a' is a pity, But what will I do wi' Tam Glen? I'm thinking wi' sic a braw fallow, In poortith I might mak' a fen'; What care I in riches to wallow, If I maunna marry Tam Glen ? There's Lowrie the laird o' Drumeller, Gude day to you, brute, he comes ben ; lie brags and he blaws o' his siller, But whan will he dance like Tam Glen? My minnie does constantly deave me, And bids me beware o' young men ; They flatter, she says, to deceive me— But wha can think sae o' Tam Glen ? My daddie says, gin I'll forsake him, He'll gie me gude hunder merks ten ; But if it's ordained I maun tak' him, O wha will I get but Tam Glen ? Yestreen at the valentines dealin', My heart to my mou' gied a sten ; For thrice I drew ane without failin', And thrice it was written—Tam Glen. The last Hallowe'en I was waukin* My drookit sark-sleeve, as ye ken ; His likeness cam up the house staukin', And the very grey breeks o' Tam Glen. Come, counsel, dear tittie, don't tarry ; I'll gie you my bonnie black hen, Gif ye will advise me to marry The lad I lo'e dearly, Tam Glen. �129 THE GALLANT WEAVER. Words by BURNS. Air—" The Weaver's March" W H E R E Cart rins rowin' to the sea, By mony a flow'r and spreading tree, There lives a lad, the lad for me, He is a gallant weaver. Oh, I had wooers eight or nine, They gied me rings and ribbons fine ; And I was fear'd my heart would tine, And I gied it to the weaver. My daddie sign'd my tocher-band, To gie the lad that has the land ; But to my heart I'll add my hand, And gie it to the weaver While birds rejoice in leafy bowers, While bees delight in op'ning flow'rs, While corn grows green in summer showers, I'll love my gallant weaver. HAPPY FRIEN'SIIIP. Words by BURNS. Air—" Willie was a wanton icagr around the ingle bleezing, Wha sae happy and sae free ? Tho' the northern wind blaws freezing, Frien'ship warms baith you and me. Happy we are a' thegither, Happy we'll be yin an' a', Time shall see us a' the blyther, Ere we rise to gang awa'. See the miser o'er his treasure Gloating wi' a greedy e'e ; Can he feel the glow o' pleasure That around us here we see ? Happy we are a' thegither, &c. Can the peer in silk and ermine, Ca' his conscience half his own ? His claes are spun and edged wi' vermin, Tho' he stan' afore a throne ! Happy we are a' thegither, &c. Thus then let us a' be tossing Aff our stoups o' gen'rous Same ; An*, while roun' the board 'tis passing, Raise a sang in frien'ship's name. Happy we are a' thegither, dtc. HERE �130 Frien'ship mak's us a' mair liappy, Frien'ship gies us a' delight; Frien'ship consecrates the drappie, Frien'ship brings us here to-night. I-Iappy we've been a' thegither, Happy we've been yin an' a', Time shall find us a' the blyther, When we rise to gang awa'. -o®c=CALLER HERRIN'. W A T T . Music by NATHANIEL Gow. buy caller herrin' ? They're ane a penny, twa a penny ; Wha'll buy caller herrin' ? They're just come frae Lochfine. Come, friends, support the fisher's trade, Wha still in peril earns his bread, While round our coast, aft tempest toss'd, He drags for caller herrin'. Then come buy my caller herrin*, They're ane a penny, twa a penny; Buy my caller herrin', They're new come frae Loclifine. Wha'll buy my caller herrin' ? They're bonnie fish an' dainty fairin'; Buy my caller herrin', They're new come frae Lochfine. Wha'il buy my caller herrin ? There's nought wi' them will stand comparin Een they hae like diamonds, Their sides like silver shine. Wha'll buy caller herrin' ? They're ane a penny, twa a penny ; Wha'll buy caller herrin' ? They're new come frae Lochfine. The rich, the poor, the auld, the young, The wise and simple, weak and strong, Rejoice to hear of halesome cheer, Like fine caller herrin'. Then come buy my caller herrin', They're ane a penny, twa a penny; Buy my caller herrin', They're just come frae Lochfine. Wha'll buy my caller herrin' ? They're bonnie fish an' dainty fairin', <fcc. Words by W M . WHA'LL f �131 BONNIE LESLEY. Words by BURNS. Air—" The Collier's bonnie lassie " 0 SAW ye bonnie Lesley, As she gaed o'er the border ? She's gane, like Alexander, To spread her conquests farther. To see her is to love her, And love but her for ever ; For nature made her what she is, And never made anither ! Thou art a queen, fair Lesley, Thy subjects we before thee: Thou art divine, fair Lesley; The hearts o' men adore thee. The de'il he couldna scaith thee, Or aught that wad belang thee; Ile'd look into thy bonnie face, And say, I canna wrang thee ! The powers aboon will tent thee, Misfortune shanna steer thee ; Thou'rt like themselves sae lovely ! That ill they'll ne'er let near thee. Return again, fair Lesley; Return to Caledonie ! That we may brag we hae a lass There's nane again sae bonnie. THO' WE NE'ER SHOULD MEET Words by DUGALD MOORE. YES, though we ne'er again should meet By summer bower, or sunny sea ; This brain shall burn, this bosom beat, For ever, and alone, for thee ! For who would bid oblivion roll, Athwart the sunshine of those hours, In which we mingled soul with soul, As the winds mix congenial flowers? Then, though the hand of distance flings Long shadows 'twixt thy hearth and mine, He cannot clip the lightning wings Which bear my spirit back to thine ! Though seas their waves between us cast, And though the star of hope has set, Yet there's a soul within the past, A glory I can ne'er forget I �132 HOW EARLY I WOO'D THEE. Words by THOMAS DICK. Air—" Humours of Glen How early I woo'd thee—how dearly I lo'ed thee— How sweet was thy voice, and how lovely thy smile The joy 'twas to see thee—the bliss to be wi' thee— I now maun remember, and sigh all the while. I gazed on thy beauty, and a' things about ye Seem'd too fair for earth, as I bent at thy shrine; But fortune and fashion, mair powerfu' than passion, Could alter the bosom that seem'd so divine. Anither may praise thee, may fondle and fraize thee, And win thee wi* words when his heart's far awa'; But oh ! when sincerest—when warmest and dearest His vows, will my truth be forgot by thee a' ? 'Mid pleasures and splendour thy fancy may wander, But moments o' solitude ilk ane maun dree ; Then feeling will find thee, and mem'ry remind thee 0' him wha through life gaes heart-broken for thee. THE SPINNING-WHEEL. Key-note F. As I sat at my spinning-wheel, A bonnie laddie he pass'd by ; I turned me round and viewed him weel, For oh ! he had a glancing e'e. My panting heart began to feel, But aye I turned my spinning-wheel. My snow-white hands he did extol, He praised my fingers neat and small, He said there was nae lady fair, That ance wi' me he could compare. His words into my heart did steal, But aye I turned my spinning-wheel. He said, Lay bye your rock, your reel, Your windings,"and your spinning-wheel He bade me lay them a' aside, And come and be his bonnie bride. And oh ! I liked his words sae weel, I laid aside my spinning-wheel. CONNEL AND FLORA. Words by ALEX. WILSON. Music arranged by J . ROBERTSON lowers the night o'er the wide stormy main, Till mild rosy morning rise cheerful again ; Alas ! morn returns to revisit the shore, But Connel returns to his Flora no more. DARK �133 For see, on yon mountain, the dark cloud of death, O'er Connel's lone cottage, lies low on the heath; While bloody and pale, on a far distant shore, He lies to return to his Flora no more. Ye light fleeting spirits that glide o'er the steep, O would you but waft me across the wild deep ! There fearless I'd mix in the battle's loud roar, I'd die with my Connel, and leave him no more. TULLOCIIGORUM. Words by the REV. JOHN " The reel d Tullochgorum Key-note D. SKINNER. C O M E gi'e's a sang, Montgomery cried, And lay your disputes all aside, What nonsense 'tis for folks to chide, For what's been done before them ! Let Whig and Tory all agree, Whig and Tory, Whig and Tory, Whig and Tory all agree, To drop their whig-meg-morum ; Let Whig and Tory all agree, And spend this night with mirth and glee, And cheerful sing along wi' me The reel o' Tullochgorum. Tullochgorum's my delight. It gars us a' in ane unite, And ony sumph that keeps up spite, In conscience I abhor him. Blythe and merry we's be a', Biythe and merry, blythe and merry, Blythe and merry we's be a', And make a cheerful quorum. Blythe and merry we's be a', As lang as we hae breath to draw, And dance, till we be like to fa', The reel of Tullochgorum. There needs na be sae great a pliraise, Wi' dringing dull Italian lays ; 1 wadna gie our aiu strathspeys For liauf a hunder score o' em. They're douff and dowie at the best, Douff and dowie, douff and dowie, They're douff and dowie at the best, Wi' a' their variorum. r �134 They're douff and dowie at the best. Their allegros, and a' the rest: They canna please a Highland taste, Compared wi' Tullochgorum. Let warldly minds themselves oppress, Wi' fear of want and double cess, And silly sauls themselves distress, Wi' keeping up decorum. Shall we sae sour and sulky sit, Sour and sulky, sour and sulky, Shall we sae sour and sulky sit, Like auld Philosophorum ? Shall we sae sour and sulky sit, Wi' neither sense, nor mirth, nor wit, And canna rise to shake a fit To the reel of Tullochgorum ? May choicest blessings still attend Each open-hearted, honest friend, And calm and quiet be his end, And a' that's good watch o'er him. May peace and plenty be his lot, Peace and plenty, peace and plenty, May peace and plenty be his lot, And dainties a great store o' em; May peace and plenty be his lot, Unstain'd by any vicious blot, And may he never want a groat, That's fond of Tullochgorum I But for the discontented fool, Who wants to be oppression's tool, May envy gnaw his rotten soul, And discontent devour him ! May dool and sorrow be his chance, Dool and sorrow, dool and sorrow, May dool and sorrow be his chance, * And honest souls abhor him: May dool and sorrow be his chance, And a' the ills that come frae France, Whae'er he be that winna dance The reel of Tullochgorum ! � Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Scottish minstrel containing a selection of the most popular songs of Scotland. <span>as sung by Wilson, Templeton, &amp;c.&nbsp;</span>Sixth Series Table Of Contents A list of subunits of the resource. A highland laddie head of war And Sae will we yer Argyle is my name Bonnie Jean Bonnie Lesley Caledonians, brave and bold Caller herrin' Ca' the ewes to the knowes Connel and Flora Donald o'Dundee Happy Frien'ship How early I woo'd thee I hae a wife o'my ain I'll aye ca' in by you town My only jo and dearie O My wife has ta'en the gee Oh open the door, some pity to show O poortith cauld O Tibbie I hae seen the day Tam Glen The bonnie Scotch lassie The broom o' the Cowdenknowes The bumper The ewie wi 'the crooked horn The fair maid o' Perth The gallant weaver The spinning-wheel The widow sae young Tho' we ne'er should meet Tullochgorum Will ye go to the ewe-bughts, Marion Wilt thou be my dearie Young Jessie Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Burns, Robert, 1759-1796 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1850 Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923410143505154">s0136b09</a> Extent The size or duration of the resource. 12 pages 16 cm Description An account of the resource Price one penny printed at bottom of title-page Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. A Highland laddie heard of war And sae will we yet Argyle is my name Bonnie Jean Bonnie Lesley Caledonians brave and bold Caller herrin' Connel and Flora Donald o' Dundee Happy Frien'ship How early I woo'd thee I have a wife o' my ain I'll aye ca' in by 'yon town My only Jo and dearie O My wife has ta'en the gee Oh open the door, some pity to show O poortith cauld O Tibble I hae seen the day Tan Glen The bonnie Scotch lassie The broom o' the cowdenknowes The bumper The ewe wi' the crooked horn The fair maid o' Perth The gallant weaver The spinning -wheel The widow sae young Tho' we ne'er should meet Tullochgorum Will ye go to the ewe-bights, Marion Will thou be my dearie Young Jessie Abstract A summary of the resource. Sixth part in a series of chapbooks on Scottish ballads. Author, tune, and composer are noted where known. Includes a total of thirty-three ballads on a variety of topics, including songs of war, the Highlands, death and mourning, humour, drinking, sheep, and, most frequently, love and courtship. Subject The topic of the resource Ballads and songs Courtship and Marriage War Wit and Humor Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Highlands Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. National Library of Scotland <a title="National Library of Scotland" href="http://www.nls.uk/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">http://www.nls.uk/</a> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For higher quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario