No. 264: The White Fisher
[According to Julia C. Bishop, the only traditional version of 'The White Fisher' with the tune was recorded and transcribed by James M. Carpenter as sung by Bell Duncan in the 1920s. See Carpenter's transcription in Sheet Music: 264. The White Fisher and also English & Other Versions. Bishop should be aware of the version by Elizabeth Robb, aslo recorded by Carpenter. Here's more from The Tunes of the English and Scottish Ballads in the James Madison Carpenter Collection by Julia C. Bishop:
Bell Duncan learnt her version of 'The White Fisher' from her mother. As Carpenter comments elsewhere, Bell Duncan's 'texts are long and full, many of the songs learned from her mother and others sixty-five, seventy years earlier', so this would date it back to 1860 or 1865. There are only a few other extant versions of the ballad, all of them consisting of the words alone: that in Peter Buchan's Ancient Ballads and Songs of the North of Scotland, and two versions collected by Gavin Greig in Aberdeenshire, from Miss Bell Robertson and Mrs Annie Robb. Bell Duncan's is closest to Annie Robb's version in its verbal details but is six stanzas longer and, as in the Buchan and Robertson versions, stresses t he mother's disapproval of the unvirtuous wife.
There are no known US or Canadian traditional versions of this ballad.
R. Matteson]
CONTENTS:
1. Child's Narrative
2. Footnotes (There are no footnotes for this ballad)
3. Brief (Kittredge)
4. Child's Ballad Text A
5. End-Notes
6. Additions and Corrections
ATTACHED PAGES (see left hand column):
1. Recordings & Info: 264. The White Fisher
A. Roud No. 3888: The White Fisher (7 Listings)
2. Sheet Music: The White Fisher (Bronson gives no music examples and texts; The sole surviving traditional tune is found in the James Carpenter Collection, which I have a copy. See also English and Other Versions.)
3. English and Other Versions (Including Child versions A)
Child's Narrative: 264. The White Fisher
A. 'The White Fisher,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 200.
A young lord, Willie, asks his 'gay lady' whose the child is that she is going with. She owns that a priest is the father, which does not appear to disconcert Willie. A boy is born, and the mother charges Willie to throw him into the sea, 'never to return till white fish he bring hame.' Willie takes the boy (now called his son) to his mother, and tells her that his 'bride' is a king's daughter; upon which his mother, who had had an ill opinion of the lady, promises to do as well by Willie's son as she had done by Willie. Returning to his wife, he finds her weeping and repining for the 'white fisher' that she had 'sent to the sea.' Willie offers her a cordial; she says that the man who could have drowned her son would be capable of poisoning her. Willie then tells her that his mother has the boy in charge; she is consoled, and declares that if he had not been the father she should not have been the mother.
To make this story hang together at all, we must suppose that the third and fourth stanzas are tropical, and that Willie was the priest; or else that they are sarcastic, and are uttered in bitter resentment of Willie's suspicion, or affected suspicion. But we need not trouble ourselves much to make these counterfeits reasonable. Those who utter them rely confidently upon our taking folly and jargon as the marks of genuineness. The white fisher is a trumpery fancy; 2, 7, 8, 12 are frippery commonplaces.
Brief Description by George Lyman Kittredge
To make this story hang together at all, we must suppose that the third and fourth stanzas are tropical, and that Willie was the priest; or else that they are sarcastic, and are uttered in bitter resentment of Willie's suspicion, or affected suspicion.
Child's Ballad Text
'The White Fisher'- Version A; Child 264 The White Fisher
'The White Fisher,' Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, I, 200.
1 'It is a month, and isna mair,
Love, sin I was at thee,
But find a stirring in your side;
Who may the father be?
2 'Is it to a lord of might,
Or baron of high degree?
Or is it to the little wee page
That rode along wi me?'
3 'It is not to a man of might,
Nor baron of high degree,
But it is to a popish priest;
My lord, I winna lie.
4 'He got me in my bower alone,
As I sat pensively;
He vowed he would forgive my sins,
If I would him obey.'
5 Now it fell ance upon a day
This young lord went from home,
And great and heavy were the pains
That came this lady on.
6 Then word has gane to her gude lord,
As he sat at the wine,
And when the tidings he did hear
Then he came singing hame.
7 When he came to his own bower-door,
He tirled at the pin:
'Sleep ye, wake ye, my gay lady,
Ye'll let your gude lord in.'
8 Huly, huly raise she up,
And slowly put she on,
And slowly came she to the door;
She was a weary woman.
9 'Ye'll take up my son, Willie,
That ye see here wi me,
And hae him down to yon shore-side,
And throw him in the sea.
10 'Gin he sink, ye'll let him sink,
Gin he swim, ye'll let him swim;
And never let him return again
Till white fish he bring hame.'
11 Then he's taen up his little young son,
And rowd him in a band,
And he is on to his mother,
As fast as he could gang.
12 'Ye'll open the door, my mother dear,
Ye'll open, let me come in;
My young son is in my arms twa,
And shivering at the chin.'
13 'I tauld you true, my son Willie,
When ye was gaun to ride,
That lady was an ill woman
That ye chose for your bride.'
14 'O hold your tongue, my mother dear,
Let a' your folly be;
I wat she is a king's daughter
That's sent this son to thee.
15 'I wat she was a king's daughter
I loved beyond the sea,
And if my lady hear of this
Right angry will she be.'
16 'If that be true, my son Willie —
Your ain tongue winna lie —
Nae waur to your son will be done
Than what was done to thee.'
17 He's gane hame to his lady,
And sair mourning was she:
'What ails you now, my lady gay,
Ye weep sa bitterlie?'
18 'O bonny was the white fisher
That I sent to the sea;
But lang, lang will I look for fish
Ere white fish he bring me!
19 'O bonny was the white fisher
That ye kiest in the faem;
But lang, lang will I look for fish
Ere white fish he fetch hame!
20 'I fell a slumbering on my bed
That time ye went frae me,
And dreamd my young son filld my arms,
But when waked, he's in the sea.'
21 'O hold your tongue, my gay lady,
Let a' your mourning be,
And I'll gie you some fine cordial,
My love, to comfort thee.'
22 'I value not your fine cordial,
Nor aught that ye can gie;
Who could hae drownd my bonny young son
Could as well poisin me.'
23 'Cheer up your heart, my lily flower,
Think nae sic ill o me;
Your young son's in my mother's bower,
Set on the nourice knee.
24 'Now, if ye'll be a gude woman,
I'll neer mind this to thee;
Nae waur is done to your young son
Than what was done to me.'
25 'Well fell's me now, my ain gude lord;
These words do cherish me;
If it hadna come o yoursell, my lord,
'Twould neer hae come o me.'
End-Notes
73. Ye sleep ye, wake ye.
Additions and Corrections:
To be Corrected in the Print.
437 b, 251. Read Well fells.