No. 42: Clerk Colvill
[There are no known traditional US or Canadian versions specifically of this ballad but rather they are derived from this ballad just as many researchers believe No. 85, Lady Alice derives from Clerk Covill. The Roud Index list includes both Child 42 "Clerk Colvill" and Child 85 "Giles/George Collins" or "Lady Alice" under number 147. See the attached articles (Recordings & Info) about the relationship between the two ballads. I'm putting the various US and Canadian versions of George Collins under Child 85: Lady Alice.
Pointed out by Jim Brown; Child 42A is actually a bowdlerized version of what Anna Gordon sang. The original Tytler Brown MS was lost in Child's day (it turned up again in the 1930s), and all he had to go on was a copy in which anything sexually explicit had been changed. The main changes were to verse 3, which in the manuscript is actually more like its counterpart in 42B:
"O had your tongue my gay Lady,
An' dinna deave me wi' your din,
For I saw never a fair woman
But wi' her body I cou'd sin."
and verse 6:
He's taen her by the milk-white hand,
And likewise by the grass-green sleeve,
An' laid her down upon the green,
Nor of his Lady speer'd he leave.
Albert Friedman borrowed this verse from the Tytler Brown MS to fill in the gap in the story in 42B in "The Viking Book of Folk Ballads of the English-Speaking World". The correct text of 42A is given in full by Bronson, and more recently by Sigrid Rieuwerts in "The Ballad Repertoire of Anna Gordon, Mrs Brown of Falkland".
In all three version, Covill's supernatural lover is a mermaid. Child speculates that he is newly wed but this is not established by the three versions. The mermaid gives him a pain in his head, apparently because he has carried on a relationship with his mortal lover, who warns him not to touch the "well far'd May."
The 1906 Hampshire versions titled "George Collins" (soon after, similar versions titled Johnny Collins were found in Appalachia) provided a link between Child 42 and Child 85 (85 is the ending: his impending death, his death, his mortal lover's discovery of his death, she opens the coffin and kisses him, then dies). The trilogy of ballads is covered in more detail in Child 85: Goerge Collins.
R. Matteson 2011, 2015]
CONTENTS:
1. Child's Narrative
2. Footnotes
3. Brief (Kittredge)
4. Child's Ballad Text A-C. (In Additions and Corrections Child give a 2nd C version, now designated C b from Findlay Manuscripts, I, 141: 'Clerk Colin,' from Miss Butchart, Arbroath, 1868.)
5. End-Notes
6. Additions and Corrections
ATTACHED PAGES (see left hand column):
1. Recordings & Info: Clerk Colvill
A. Roud 147: Clerk Colvill, Giles Collins; Lady Alice
B. George Collins- Barbara M. Cra'ster 1910
C. The "Johnny Collins" Version of Lady Alice- Bayard
D. The "Clerk Colvill" Mermaid- Harbison Parker 1947
2. English and Other Versions (Including Child versions A-C with additional notes)]
3. Sheet Music: Clerk Colvill (Bronson's texts and some music examples)
Child's Narrative
A. 'Clark Colven,' from a transcript of No 13 of William Tytler's Brown Manuscript.
B. 'Clerk Colvill, or, The Mermaid,' Herd's Ancient and Modern Scots Songs, I 169, p. 302.
C a. W. F. in Notes and Querles, Fourth Series, VIII, 510, from the recitation of a lady in Forfarshire.
b. Findlay Manuscripts, I, 141: 'Clerk Colin,' from Miss Butchart, Arbroath, 1868.
Although, as has been already said, William Tytler's Brown manuscript is now not to be found, a copy of two of its fifteen ballads has been preserved in the Fraser Tytler family, and 'Clerk Colvill,' A ('Clark Colven') is one of the two.[1] This ballad is not in Jamieson's Brown manuscript. Rewritten by Lewis, A was published in Tales of Wonder, 1801, II, 445, No 56. B, 1769, is the earliest printed English copy, but a corresponding Danish ballad antedates its publication by seventy-five years. Of C, W. F., who communicated it to Notes and Queries, says: "I have reason to believe that it is originally from the same source as that from which Scott, and especially Jamieson, derived many of their best ballads." This source should be no other than Mrs. Brown, who certainly may have known two versions of Clerk Colvill; but C is markedly different from A. An Abbotsford manuscript, entitled "Scottish Songs," has, at fol. 3, a version which appears to have been made up from Lewis's copy, its original, A, and Herd's, B.
All the English versions are deplorably imperfect, and C is corrupted, besides. The story which they afford is this. Clerk Colvill, newly married as we may infer, is solemnly entreated by his gay lady never to go near a well-fared may who haunts a certain spring or water. It is clear that before his marriage he had been in the habit of resorting to this mermaid, as she is afterwards called, and equally clear, from the impatient answer which he renders his dame, that he means to visit her again. His coming is hailed with pleasure by the mermaid, who, in the course of their interview, does something which gives him a strange pain in the head, — a pain only increased by a prescription which she pretends will cure it, and, as she then exultingly tells him, sure to grow worse until he is dead. He draws his sword on her, but she merrily springs into the water. He mounts his horse, rides home tristful, alights heavily, and bids his mother make his bed, for all is over with him.
C is at the beginning blended with verses which belong to 'Willie and May Margaret,' Jamieson, I, 135 (from Mrs. Brown's recitation), or 'The Drowned Lovers,' Buchan, I, 140. In this ballad a mother adjures her son not to go wooing, under pain of her curse. He goes, nevertheless, and is drowned. It is obvious, without remark, that the band and belt in C 1 do not suit the mother; neither does the phrase 'love Colin' in the second stanza.[2] C 9-11 afford an important variation from the other versions. The mermaid appears at the foot of the young man's bed, and offers him a choice between dying then and living with her in the water. (See the Norwegian ballads at p. 377.)
Clerk Colvill is not, as his representative is or may be in other ballads, the guiltless and guileless object of the love or envy of a water-sprite or elf. His relations with the mermaid began before his marriage with his gay lady, and his death is the natural penalty of his desertion of the water-nymph; for no point is better established than the fatal consequences of inconstancy in such connections.[3] His history, were it fully told, would closely resemble that of the Knight of Staufenberg, as narrated in a German poem of about the year 1300.[4]
The already very distinguished chevalier, Peter Diemringer, of Staufenberg (in the Ortenau Baden four leagues from Strassburg), when riding to mass one Whitsunday, saw a lady of surpassing beauty, dressed with equal magnificence, sitting on a rock by the wayside. He became instantaneously enamored, and, greeting the lady in terms, expressive of his admiration, received no discouraging reply. The lady rose; the knight sprang from his horse, took a hand which she offered, helped her from the rock, and they sat down on the grass. The knight asked how she came to be there alone. The lady replied that she had been waiting for him: ever since he could bestride a horse she had been devoted to him; she had been his help and protection in tourneys and fights, in all climes and regions, though he had never seen her. The knight wished he might ever be hers. He could have his wish, she said, and never know trouble or sickness, on one condition, and that was that he never should marry: if he did this, he would die in three days. He vowed to be hers as long as he lived; they exchanged kisses, and then she bade him mount his horse and go to mass. After the benediction he was to return home, and when he was alone in his chamber, and wished for her, she would come, and so always; that privilege God had given her: "swâ ich wil, dâ bin ich." They had their meeting when he returned from church: he redoubled his vows, she promised him all good things, and the bounties which he received from her overflowed upon all his friends and comrades.
The knight now undertook a chivalrous tour, to see such parts of the world as he had not visited before. Wherever he went, the fair lady had only to be wished for and she was by him: there was no bound to her love or her gifts. Upon his return he was beset by relatives and friends, and urged to marry. He put them off with excuses: he was too young to sacrifice his freedom, and what not. They returned to the charge before long, and set a wise man of his kindred at him to beg a boon of him. "Anything," he said, "but marrying: rather cut me into strips than that," Having silenced his advisers by this reply, he went to his closet and wished for his lady. She was full of sympathy, and thought it might make his position a little easier if he should tell his officious friends something of the real case, how he had a wife who attended him wherever he went and was the source of all his prosperity; but he must not let them persuade him, or what she had predicted would surely come to pass.
At this time a king was to be chosen at Frankfurt and all the nobility flocked thither, and among them Staufenberg, with a splendid train. He, as usual, was first in all tourneys, and made himself remarked for his liberal gifts and his generous consideration of youthful antagonists: his praise was in everybody's mouth. The king sent for him, and offered him an orphan niece of eighteen, with a rich dowry. The knight excused himself as unworthy of such a match. The king said his niece must accept such a husband as he pleased to give, and many swore that Staufenberg was a fool. Bishops, who were there in plenty, asked him if he had a wife already. Staufenberg availed himself of the leave which had been given him, and told his whole story, not omitting that he was sure to die in three days if he married. "Let me see the woman,' said one of the bishops. "She lets nobody see her but me," answered Staufenberg. "Then it is a devil," said another of the clergy, "and your soul is lost forever." Staufenberg yielded, and said he would do the king's will. He was betrothed that very hour, and set out for Ortenau, where he had appointed the celebration of the nuptials. When night came he wished for the invisible lady. She appeared, and told him with all gentleness that he must prepare for the fate of which she had forewarned him, a fate seemingly inevitable, and not the consequence of her resentment. At the wedding feast she would display her foot in sight of all the guests: when he saw that, let him send for the priest, The knight thought of what the clergy had said, and that this might be a cheat of the devil. The bride was brought to Staufenberg, the feast was held, but at the very beginning of it a foot whiter than ivory was seen through the ceiling. Staufenberg tore his hair and cried, Friends, ye have ruined yourselves and me! He begged his bride and all who had come with her to the wedding to stay for his funeral, ordered a bed to be prepared for him and a priest to be sent for. He asked his brothers to give his bride all that he promised her. But she said no: his friends should rather have all that she had brought; she would have no other husband, and since she had been the cause of his death she would go into a cloister, where no eye should see her: which she did after she had returned to her own country.
A superscription to the old poem denominates Staufenberg's amphibious consort a mer-fey, sea-fairy; but that description is not to be strictly interpreted, no more than mer-fey, or fata morgana, is in some other romantic tales. There is nothing of the water-sprite in her, nor is she spoken of by any such name in the poem itself. The local legends of sixty years ago,[5] and perhaps still, make her to have been a proper water-nymph. She is first met with by the young knight near a spring or a brook, and it is in a piece of water that he finds his death, and that on the evening of his wedding day.
Clerk Colvill and the mermaid are represented by Sir Oluf and an elf in Scandinavian ballads to the number of about seventy. The oldest of these is derived from a Danish manuscript of 1550, two centuries and a half later than the Staufenberg poem, but two earlier than Clerk Colvill, the oldest ballad outside of the Scandinavian series. Five other versions are of the date 1700, or earlier, the rest from tradition of this century. No ballad has received more attention from the heroic Danish editor, whose study of 'Elveskud' presents an admirably ordered synoptic view of all the versions known up to 1881: Grundtvig, No 47, II, 109-19, 663-66; III, 824-25; IV, 835-74.[6]
The Scandinavian versions are:
Färöe, four: A, 39 sts, B, 24 sts, C, 18 sts, D, 23 sts, Grundtvig, IV, 849-52.
Icelandic, twelve, differing slightly except at the very end: A, 'Kvæði af Ólafi Liljurós,' 24 sts, Manuscript of 1665; B, C, Manuscript of about 1700, 20 sts, 1 st.; D, 18 sts; E, 17 sts; F, G, 16 sts; H, 'Ólafs kvæði,' 22 sts; I a, 18 sts; I b, 20 sts; K, 22 sts; L, 24 sts, M, 25 sts. These in Íslenzk fornkvæði, pp 4-10, A a in full, but only the variations of the other versions. I b, previously, 'Ólafur og álfamær,' Berggreen, Danske Folke-Sange og Melodier, 2d ed., pp 56, 57, No 20 d; and M, "Snót, p. 200."
Danish, twenty-six: 'Elveskud' A, 54 sts, Manuscript of 1550, Grundtvig, II, 112; B, 25 sts, Syv No 87 (1695), Danske Viser, I, 237, Grundtvig, II, 114; C, 29 sts, the same, II, J15; D a, D b, 31, 15 sts, II, 116, 665; E-G, 20, 16, 8 sts, II, 117-19; H, I, 32, 25 sts, II, 663-64; K, 29 sts, L, 15 sts, M, 27 sts, N, 16 sts, O, 33 sts, P, 22 sts, Q, 7 sts, R, 22 sts, S, 32 sts, T, 27 sts, U, 25 sts, V, 18 sts, X, 11 sts, Y, 11 sts, Z, 8 sts, Æ, 23 sts, IV, 835-47; Ø, 10 sts, Boisen, Nye og gamle Viser, 1875, p. 191, No 98.
Swedish, eight: A, 15 sts, 'Elf-Qvinnan och Herr Olof,' Manuscript of seventeenth century, Afzelius, III, 165; B, 12 sts, 'Herr Olof i Elfvornas dans,' Afzelius, III, 160; C, 18 sts, Afzelius, III, 162; D, 21 sts, 'Herr Olof och Elfvorna,' Arwidsson, II, 304; E, 20 sts, Arwidsson, II, 307; F, 19 sts, Grundtvig, IV, 848; G, 12 sts, 'Herr Olof och Elffrun,' Djurklou, p. 94; H, 8 sts, Afzelius, Sägo-Hafder, ed. 1844, ii, 157.
Norwegian, eighteen: A, 39 sts, 'Olaf Liljukrans,' Landstad, p. 355; B, 15 sts, Landstad, p. 843; C-S, collections of Professor Bugge, used in manuscript by Grundtvig; C, 36 sts, partly printed in Grundtvig, III, 824; D, 23 sts, Grundtvig, III, 824-25, partly; E, 22 sts; F, 11 sts; G, 27 sts; H, 13 sts; I, 7 sts; K, 4 sts, two printed, ib., p. 824.[7]
Of these the Färöe versions are nearest to the English. Olaf's mother asks him whither he means to ride; his corselet is hanging in the loft; A, C, D. "I am going to the heath, to course the hind," he says. "You are not going to course the hind; you are going to your leman. White is your shirt, well is it washed, but bloody shall it be when it is taken off," A, D. "God grant it be not as she bodes!" exclaims Olaf, as he turns from his mother, A. He rides to the hills and comes to an elf-house. An elf comes out, braiding her hair, and invites him to dance. "You need not braid your hair for me; I have not come a-wooing," he says. "I must quit the company of elves, for to-morrow is my bridal." "If you will have no more to do with elves, a sick bridegroom shall you be! Would you rather lie seven years in a sick-bed, or go to the mould to-morrow?" He would rather go to the mould to-morrow. The elf brought him a drink, with an atter-corn, a poison grain, floating in it: at the first draught his belt burst A, B*. "Kiss me," she said, "before you ride." He leaned over and kissed her, though little mind had he to it: she was beguiling him, him so sick a man. His mother came out to meet him: "Why are you so pale, as if you had been in an elf-dance?" "I have been in an elf-dance," he said,[8] went to bed, turned his face to the wall, and was dead before midnight. His mother and his love (moy, vív) died thereupon.
Distinct evidence of previous converse with elves is lacking in the Icelandic versions. Olaf rides along the cliffs, and comes upon an elf-house. One elf comes out with her hair twined with gold, another with a silver tankard, a third in a silver belt, and a fourth welcomes him by name. "Come into the booth and drink with us." "I will not live with elves," says Olaf; "rather will I believe in God." The elf answers that he might do both, excuses herself for a moment, and comes back in a cloak, which hides a sword. "You shall not go without giving us a kiss," she says. Olaf leans over his saddle-bow and kisses her, with but half a heart, and she thrusts the sword under his shoulder-blade into the roots of his heart. He sees his heart's blood under his horse's feet, and spurs home to his mother. "Whence comest thou, my son, and why so pale, as if thou hadst been in an elf-dance (leik)?" "It boots not to hide it from thee: an elf has beguiled me. Make my bed, mother; bandage my side, sister." He dies presently: there was more mourning than mirth; three were borne to tbe grave together.
Nearly all the Danish and Swedish versions, and a good number of the Norwegian, interpose an affecting scene between the death of the hero and that of his bride and his mother. The bride, on her way to Olaf's house, and on her arrival, is disconcerted and alarmed by several ominous proceedings or circumstances. She hears bells tolling; sees people weeping; sees men come and go, but not the bridegroom. She is put off for a time with false explanations, but in the end discovers the awful fact. Such a passage occurs in the oldest Danish copy, which is also the oldest known copy of the ballad. The importance of this version is such that the story requires to be given with some detail.
Oluf rode out before dawn, but it seemed to him bright as day.[9] He rode to a hill where dwarfs were dancing. A maid stepped out from the dance, put her arm round his neck, and asked him whither he would ride. "To talk with my true-love," said he. "But first," said she, "you must dance with us." She then went on to make him great offers if he would plight himself to her: a horse that would go to Rome and back in an hour, and a gold saddle for it; a new corselet, having which he never need fly from man; a sword such as never was used in war. Such were all her benches as if gold Were laid in links, and such were all her drawbridges as the gold on his hands. "Keep your gold," he answered; "I will go home to my true-love." She struck him on the cheek, so that the blood spattered his coat; she struck him midshoulders, so that he fell to the ground: "Stand up, Oluf, and ride home; you shall not live more than a day." He turned his horse, and rode home a shattered man. His mother was at the gate: "Why comest thou home so sad?" "Dear mother, take my horse; dear brother, fetch a priest." "Say not so, Oluf; many a sick man does not die. To whom do you give your betrothed?" "Rise, my seven brothers, and ride to meet my young bride."
As the bride's train came near the town, they heard the bells going. "Why is this?" she asked, her heart already heavy with pain; "I know of no one having been sick." They told her it was a custom there to receive a bride so. But when she entered the house, all the women were weeping. "Why are these ladies weeping?" No one durst answer a word. The bride went on into the hall, and took her place on the bride-bench. "I see," she said, "knights go and come, but I see not my lord Oluf." The mother answered, Oluf is gone to the wood with hawk and hound. "Does he care more for hawk and hound than for his young bride?"
At evening they lighted the torches as if to conduct the bride to the bride-bed; but Oluf's page, who followed his lady, revealed the truth on the way. "My lord," he said, "lies on his bier above, and you are to give your troth to his brother." "Never shalt thou see that day that I shall give my troth to two brothers." She begged the ladies that she might see the dead. They opened the door; she ran to the bier, threw back the cloth, kissed the body precipitately; her heart broke in pieces; grievous was it to see.
Danish B, printed by Syv in 1695, is the copy by which the ballad of the Elf-shot has become so extensively known since Herder's time, through his translation and others.[10]
The principal variations of the Scandinavian ballads, so far as they have not been given. now remain to be noted.
The hero's name is mostly Oluf, Ole, or a modification of this, Wolle, Rolig, Volder: sometimes with an appendage, as Färöe Ólavur Riddararós, Rósinkrans, Icelandic Ólafur Liljurós, Norwegian Olaf Liljukrans, etc. It is Peder in Danish H, I, O, P, Q, R, Æ.
Excepting the Färöe ballads, Oluf is not distinctly represented as having had previous acquaintance with the elves. In Swedish A 5 he says, I cannot dance with you, my betrothed has forbidden me; in Danish C, I should be very glad if I could; to-morrow is my wedding-day.
The object of his riding out is to hunt, or the like, in Danish D b, E, F, I, R, T, X, Y; to bid guests to his wedding, Danish B, C, D a, G, H, K-N, P, S, U, V, Ø, Norwegian A, B.
He falls in with dwarfs, Danish A, H, Norwegian A; trolds, Danish I; elves and dwarfs, Norwegian B, and a variation of A: elsewhere it is elves.
There is naturally some diversity in the gifts which the elf offers Oluf in order to induce him to dance with her. He more commonly replies that the offer is a handsome one, 'kan jeg vel få,' but dance with her he cannot; sometimes that his true-love has already given him that, or two, three, seven such, Danish D a, I, T, X, Y.
If he will not dance with her, the elf threatens him with sore sickness, Danish B, E, H, Z, Ø, Norwegian A, Swedish E, F; a great misfortune, Danish F, Swedish A; sharp knives, Danish P; it shall cost him his young life, Danish D a, b, T, Y.
Oluf dances with the elves, obviously under compulsion, in Danish C, D, G-N, S, T, U, X, Y, Swedish F, and only in these. He dances till both his boots are full of blood, D a 15, D b 4, G 5, I 11, K 5, L 5, M 6, N 7, S 6 [shoes], T 10, U 5, X 8, Y 7; he dances so long that is nigh dead, I 12.
The hard choice between dying at once or lying sick seven years is found, out of the Färöe ballads, only in Danish H 8, M 8, O 4, Q 2, S 8. Norwegian ballads, like English C, present an option between living with elves and dying, essentially a repetition of the terms under which Peter of Staufenberg weds the fairy, that he shall forfeit his life if he takes a mortal wife. So Norwegian
A 12 Whether wilt thou rather live with the elves,
Or leave the elves, a sick man?
13 Whether wilt thou be with the elves,
Or bid thy guests and be sick?
B 9 Whether wilt thou stay with the elves,
Or, a sick man, flit [bring home] thy true love?
10 Whether wilt thou be with elves,
Or, a sick man, flit thy bride?
There is no answer.
Norwegian C, E, G, I resemble A. H is more definite.
6 Whether wilt thou go off sick, "under isle,"
Or wilt thou marry an elf-maid?
7 Whether wilt thou go off sick, under hill,
Or wilt thou marry an elf-wife?
To which Olaf answers that he lists not to go off it sick man, and he cannot marry an elf.
The two last stanzas of English C, which correspond to these,
'Will ye lie there an die, Clerk Colin,
Will ye lie there an die?
Or will ye gang to Clyde's water,
To fish in flood wi me?'
'I will lie here an die,' he said,
'I will lie here an die;
In spite o a' the deils in hell,
I will lie here all die,'
may originally have come in before the mermaid and the clerk parted; but her visit to him as he lies in bed is paralleled by that of the fairy to Staufenberg after he has been persuaded to give up what he had been brought to regard as an infernal liaison; and certainly Clerk Colin's language might lead us to think that some priest had been with him, too.
Upon Oluf's now seeking to make his escape through the elves' flame, ring, dance, etc., Norwegian A, B, C, E, G, I, H, K, the elf-woman strikes at him with a gold band, her wand, band, a branch or twig; gives him a blow on the cheek, between the shoulders, over his white neck; stabs him in the heart, gives him knife-strokes five, nine; sickness follows the stroke, or blood: Danish A, B, F, N, O, R, V, Z, Æ, Ø, Swedish D, G, Norwegian A-E, H, I, Icelandic. The knife-stabs are delayed till the elves have put him on his horse in Danish D, G, X; as he sprang to his horse the knives rang after him, H. "Ride home," they say, "you shall not live more than a day" [five hours, two hours], Danish A, C, K-N, S, U, V. His hair fades, Danish E; his cheek pales, Danish E, Norwegian A; sickness follows him home, Swedish A, C, D, E; the blood is running out of the wound in bis heart, Swedish G; when he reaches his father's house both his boots are full of blood, Danish R, Æ.
His mother [father] is standing without, and asks, Why so pale? Why runs the blood from thy saddle? Oluf, in some instances, pretends that his horse, not being sure-footed, had stumbled, and thrown him against a tree, but is told, or of himself adds, that he has been among the elves. He asks one or the other of his family to take his horse, bring a priest, make his bed, put on a bandage. He says he shall never rise from his bed, Swedish C, Danish F; fears he shall not live till the priest comes, Danish O, P.
The important passage which relates the arrival of the bride, the ominous circumstances at the bridegroom's house, the attempts to keep the bride in ignorance of his death, and her final discovery that she is widowed before marriage, occupies some thirty stanzas in Danish A, the oldest of all copies; in Danish B it is reduced to six; in other Danish versions it has a range of from fifteen to two; but, shorter or longer, it is found in all versions but R, Ø, and the fragments G, L, Q, X, Z. All the Swedish versions have a similar scene, extending from three to nine stanzas, with the exception of G and of A, which latter should perhaps be treated as a fragment. In Norwegian A, again, this part of the story fills ten stanzas; B lacks it, but C-H (which have not been published in full) have it, and probably other unpublished copies.
The bride is expected the next day, Danish D, F, I, K, N, O, S, T, U, Swedish A, D. In Danish A Oluf begs his brothers, shortly after his reaching home, to set out to meet her; he fears she may arrive that very night, Danish Æ. "What shall I answer your young bride?" asks the mother, Danish B, C, D, etc., Swedish H. "Tell her that I have gone to the wood, to hunt and shoot, to try my horse and my dogs," Danish B, C, D, F, H, I, K, O, S, T, U, Swedish D, H, Norwegian A, L; in Danish N only, "Say I died in the night." Oluf now makes his will; he wishes to assign his bride to his brother, Danish L, O, R, Norwegian C, F; he dies before the bride can come to him. (Norwegian F seems to have gone wrong here.)
The bride, with her train, comes in the morning, Danish B, D, E, I, M, T, Swedish D, Norwegian D; Swedish C makes her wait for her bridegroom several days. As she passes through the town the bells are tolling, and she anxiously asks why, Danish A, K, O, S, U; she is told that it is a custom there to ring when the bride comes, Danish A, Swedish B. In Danish H, though it is day, she sees a light burning in Oluf's chamber, and this alarms her. When she comes to the house, Oluf's mother is weeping, all the ladies are weeping, or there are other signs of grief, Danish A, C, H, U, Æ. When she asks the reason, no one can answer, or she is told that a woman, a fair knight, is dead, A, C, H. Now she asks, Where is Oluf, who should have come to meet me, should have been here to receive me? Danish K, O, S, U, D, E, I, T. etc. They conduct the bride into the hall and seat her on the bride bench; knights come and go; they pour out mead and wine. "Where is Oluf," she asks again; the mother replies, as best she can, that Oluf is gone to the wood, Danish B, H, Norwegian A, D, Swedish H, etc. "Does he then care more for that than for his bride?" Danish A, D, I, M, etc., Swedish C, D, Norwegian A, E, G.
The truth is now avowed that Oluf is dead, Danish A, D, I, T, Y, Æ, Swedish B, Norwegian G. The bride begs that she may see the dead, Danish A, C, P, Æ, Swedish F, Norwegian D, E, and makes her way to the room where Oluf is lying. She puts aside the cloths that cover him, or the curtains, or the flowers, Danish A, B, K, V, etc., Swedish C, D, Norwegian C, D, E, G; says a word or two to her lover, Danish A, C, E, H, Swedish E, F, Norwegian G; kisses him, Danish A, C, H; her heart breaks, Danish A, C; she swoons dead at his feet, Danish K, M, S, U. In Norwegian A, C, D, she kills herself with Olaf's sword; in Swedish E, with her own knife. In Danish R she dies in Oluf's mother's arms. On the morrow, when it was day, in Oluf's house three corpses lay: the first was Oluf, the second his maid, the third his mother, of grief was she dead: Danish, Swedish, Norwegian, passim.[11]
Breton ballads preserve the story in a form closely akin to the Scandinavian, and particularly to the oldest Danish version. I have seen the following, all from recent tradition: A, C, 'Ann Aotro ar C'hont,' 'Le Seigneur Comte,' Luzel, 4/5, 16/17, fifty-seven and fifty-nine two-line stanzas. B, 'Ann Aotro Nann,' 'Le Seigneur Nann,' Luzel, I, 10/11, fifty-seven stanzas.[12] D, 'Aotrou Nann hag ar Gorrigan,' 'Le Seigneur Nann et la Fée,' Villemarqué, 25, ed. 1867, thirty-nine stanzas. E, 'Monsieur Nann,' Poésies populaires de la France, manuscript, V, fol. 381, fifty-three verses. F, 'Sonen Gertrud guet hi Vam,' 'Chant de Gertrude et de sa Mère,' L. Kérardven [= Dufilhol], Guionvac'h, Études sur la Bretagne, 2d ed., Paris, 1835, p. 362, p. 13, eleven four-line stanzas. G. Rolland in Romania, XII, 117, a somewhat abridged literal translation, in French.
The count [Nann] and his wife were married at the respective ages of thirteen and twelve. The next year a son was born [a boy and girl, D]. The young husband asked the countess if she had a fancy for anything. She owned that she should like a bit of game, and he took his gun [lance] and went to the wood. At the entrance of the wood he met a fairy [a dwarf, E; a hind, G; saw a white hind, which he pursued hotly till evening, when he dismounted near a grotto to drink, and there was a korrigan, sitting by the spring, combing her hair with a gold comb, D]. The fairy [dwarf, hind] said that she had long been looking for him, A, B, C, E, G. "Now that I have met you, you must marry me."[13] "Marry you? Not I. I am married already." "Choose either to die in three days or to lie sick in bed seven [three] years" [and then die, C]. He would rather die in three days, for his wife is very young, and would suffer greatly [he would rather die that instant than wed a korrigan, D].
On reaching home the young man called to his mother to make his bed; he should never get up again. [His mother, in C 21, says, Do not weep so: it is not every sick man that dies, as in Danish A 22.] He recounted his meeting with the fairy, and begged that his wife might not be informed of his death.
The countess asked, What has happened to my husband, that he does not come to see me? She was told that he had gone to the wood to get her something, A [to Paris, C; to the city, D]. 'Why were the men-servants weeping? The best horse had been drowned in bathing him, A, E; had been eaten by the wolves, B; had broken his neck, C; had died, F. They were not to weep; others should be bought. And why were the maids weeping? Linen had been lost in washing, A, C, E, F; the best silver cover had been stolen, F. They must not weep; the loss would be supplied. Why were the priests chanting? [the bells tolling, E, F]. A poor person whom they had lodged had died in the night, A-E [a young prince had died, F]. What dress should she wear for her churching, — red or blue? D, F[14] The custom had come in of wearing black [she asks for red, they give her black, F]. On arriving at the church, or cemetery, she saw that the earth had been disturbed; her pew was hung with black, B; why was this? "I can no longer conceal it," said her mother-in-law: "your husband is dead." She died upon the spot, A, D. "Take my keys, take care of my son; I will stay with his father," B, C. "Your son is dead, your daughter is dead," F.[15]
This ballad has spread, apparently from Brittany, over all France. No distinct trace of the fairy remains, however, except in a single case. The versions that have been made public, so far as they have come to my knowledge, are as follows, resemblance to the Breton ballad principally directing the arrangement.
A. 'Le fils Louis,' Vendée, pays de Retz, Poésies populaires de la France, Manuscript, III, fol. 118, printed in Romania, XI, 100, 44 verses. B. Normandy, 1876, communicated by Legrand to Romania, X, 372, 61 verses. C. "Forez, Frédéric Noëlas, Annales de la Société impériale d'agricultnre, industrie, sciences, arts et belles-lettres du département de la Loire, Année 1865, p. 210, 64 verses," Grundtvig, IV, 867-70. D. Victor Smith, Chants populaires du Velay et du Forez, Romania, X, 583, 68 verses. E. The same, p. 581, 64 verses. F. Saint-Denis, Poés. pop. de la France, III, fol. 103, Romania, XI, 98, 74 verses, as sung by a young girl, her mother and grandmother. G. Poitou et Vendée, Études historiques et artistiques par B. Filion et O. De Rochbrune, 7e-10e livraisons, Fontenay-le-Comte, 1865, article Nalliers, pp 17, 18, nineteen four-line stanzas and a couplet; before by B. Fillon in "L'Histoire véridique des fraudes et exécrables voleries et subtilités de Guillery, depuis sa naissance jusqu'à la juste punition de ses crimes, Fontenay, 1848," extracted in Poés. pop., III, fol. 112; other copies at fol. 108 and at fol. 116; Romania, XI, 101, 78 verses. H. Bourbonnais, Poés. pop. III, fol. 91, Romania, XI, 103, 38 verses, sung by a woman seventy-two years old. I. Bretagne, Loudéac, Poés. pop., III, fol. 121, Romania, XI, 103 f, 64 verses. J. Poés. pop., III, fol. 285, Romania, XII, 115 (I), 50 verses. K. Bretagne (?), Romania, XII, 115 f, 36 verses. L. V. Smith, Chants pop. du Velay et du Forez, Romania, X, 582. 57 verses. M. 'Le roi Renaud,' Flévy, Puymaigre, I, 39, 78 verses. N. Touraine, Bléré, Brachet in Revue Critique, II, 125, 60 verses. O. The same, variations of a later version. P. 'L'Arnaud l'Infant,' Limoges, Laforest, Limoges au XVIIe siècle, 1862, p. 300, Poes. pop., III, fol. 95, Romania, XI, 104, 82 verses. Q. Charente, Poés. pop., III, fo1. 107, ROlllania, XI, 99, 60 verses. R. Cambes, Lot-et-Garonne. Romania, XII, 116, 46 verses. S. Jura, Revue des Deux Mondes, 1854, Août, p. 486, 50 verses. T. Rouen, Poés. pop. III, fol. 100, Romania, XI, 102, 60 verses, communicated by a gentleman who at the beginning of the century had learned the ballad from an aunt, who had received it from an aged nun. U. a Buchon, Noëls et Chants populaires de la Franche-Comté, p. 85, 34 verses; b, Tarbé. Romancero de Champagne, Vol. II, Chants Populaires, p. 125, 32 verses; c, G. de Nerval, La Bohème Galante, ed. 1866, p. 77, Les Filles du Feu, ed. 1868, p. 130, 30 verses; d. 'Jean Renaud,' Bujeaud, Chants et Chansons populaires des Provinces de l'Ouest, II, 213, 32 verses. V. Poés. pop., III, fol. 122, Romania, XI, 100 f, 32 verses. W. Le Blésois, Ampère, Instructions, etc., p. 37, 36 verses. X. Provence, Poés. pop., III, fol. 114. Romania, XI, 105, 44 verses. Y. 'Lou Counte Arnaud,' Bivès, Gers, Bladé, Poés. pop. de la Gascogne, II, 134/135, 48 verses. Z. Vagney, Vosges, Mélusine, p. 75, 44 verses. AA. Cambes, Lot-et-Garonne, Romania, XII, 116 f, 40 verses. BB. Quercy, Sérignac, Poés. pop., Romania, XI, 106, 34 verses. CC. Quercy, Poés. pop., Romania, XI, 107, 26 verses. DD. Bretagne, Villemarqué, Barzaz-Breiz, ed. 1846, I, 46, 12 verses. EE. Orléans, Poés. pop., III. fol. 102, Romania, XI, 107, 10 verses. FF. Auvergne, Poés. pop., III, fol. 89, Romania, XI, 107 f, 6 verses. GG. Boulonnais, 'La Ballade du Roi Renaud,' E. Hamy, in Almanach de Boulogne-sur-Mer pour 1863, p. 110 (compounded from several versions), 16 four-line stanzas. [16]
The name of the hero in the French ballad is mostly Renaud, or some modification of Renaud: Jean Renaud, G, H, U; Renom, AA; Arnaud, C, E, L, Y, BB; L'Arnaud l'Infant, P; Louis Renaud, brother of Jean, F. It is Louis in A, I, J, V. He is king, or of the royal family, F, M, N, O, Q, W, BB, CC, GG; count, Y; Renaud le grand, H, Z. In A, while he is walking in his meadows, he meets Death, who asks him, peremptorily, Would you rather die this very night, or languish seven years? and he answers that he prefers to die at once. Here there is a very plain trace of the older fairy. He is mortally hurt, while hunting, by a wolf, B; by a boar, DD. But in more than twenty versions he retnrns from war, often with a horrible wound, "apportant son cœur dans sa main," C; "tenant ses tripes dans ses mains," N; " oque ses tripes on sa main, sen estoumac on sen chapea, sen cûr covert de sen mentea," G; etc. In F, I, J he comes home in a dying state from prison (to which he was consigned, according to I, for robbing a church!). In these versions the story is confused with that of another ballad, existing in Breton, and very likely in French, 'Komt ar Chapel,' 'Le Comte des Chapelles,' Luzel, I, 456/457, or 'Le Page de Louis XIII,' Villemarqué, Barzaz-Breiz, p. 301. A fragment of a corresponding Italian ballad is given by Nigra, Romania, XI, 397, No 9.
Renaud, as it will be convenient to call the hero, coming home triste et chagrin, F, P, U b, c, triste et bien malau, Y, receives on his arriving felicitations from his mother on account of the birth of a son. He has no heart to respond to these: "Ni de ma femme, ni de mon fils, je ne saurais me réjoui." He asks that his bed may be made, with precautions against his wife's hearing. At midnight he is dead.
The wife, hearing the men-servants weeping, asks her mother-in-law the cause. The best horse [horses] has been found dead in the stable, has strayed away, etc., B, D-S, GG. "No matter for that," says the wife; "when Renaud comes he will bring better," B, D-G, L-Q, GG. The maids are heard weeping; why is that? They have lost, or injured, sheets in the washing, B, D, E, G, J. When Renaud comes we shall have better, B, D, E, G. Or a piece of plate has been lost or broken, A, F, H, I, K, O. [It is children with the toothache, F, U a, b, c, d]. "What is this chanting which I hear?" It is a procession, making the tour of the house: B, D-F, L, P-X, GG. "What gown shall I wear when I go to church?" Black is the color for women at their churching, B, F, I, L, M, O, P, V, Y; black is more becoming, plus joli, plus convenant, plus conséquent, A, D, H, K, N, R, X, BB, DD, GG; "quittez le ros', quittez le gris, prenez le noir, pour mieux choisir," etc., Q, W, U, E, S, T.
Besides these four questions, all of which occur in Breton ballads, there are two which are met with in many versions, always coming before the last. "What is this pounding (frapper, cogner, taper) which I hear?" It is carpenters, or masons, repairing some part of the house, D, E, K, L, N, P-U, W, A, V, X, AA, GG. "Why are the bells ringing?" For a procession, or because a distinguished personage has come, has died, etc., A, B, F-L, Q, R, W, Y, AA, DD, GG. On the way to church [or cemetery] herdboys or others say to one another, as the lady goes by, That is the wife of the king, the seigneur, that was buried last night, or the like; and the mother-in-law has again to put aside the lady's question as to what they were saying, D, E, G, H, L-P, S, T, X, Y, FF, GG.
Flambeaux: or candles are burning at the church, E, V; a taper is presented to the widow, M, or holy water, N, T, Z, GG; the church is hung with black, D, O, FF; the funeral is going on, AA, CC. "Whose is this new monument?" "What a fine tomb!" M, N, R, T, Z, GG. The scene in other cases is transferred to the cemetery. "Why has the earth been disturbed?" "What new monument is this?" A, DD; C, F, I, J, P. In B the tomb is in the garden; in L, S, X, BB the place is not defined.
The young wife utters a piercing shriek, C, D, K, L, N. Open earth, split tomb, split tiles! A, B, Q, R, V, W, X, Y; I will stay with my husband, will die with my husband, will not go back, A, C, D, M, N, Q, R, S, X, Y, Z, BB, CC, GG. She bids her mother take her keys, B, C, G, L, M, P, Y, BB, CC, GG, and commits her son [children] to her kinsfolk, to bring up piously, B, G, I, J, L, M, O, Z, BB, CC. In H, P, Q, W, X, Y the earth opens, and in the last four it encloses her. In K heaven is rent by her shriek, and she sees her husband in light (who says, strangely, that his mouth smacks of rot); he bids her bring up the children as Christians. Heaven opens to her prayer in AA, and a voice cries, Wife, come up hither! In GG the voice from heaven says, Go to your child: I will keep your husband safe. There are other variations.[17]
G, T, I say expressly that Renaud's wife died the next day, or after hearing three masses, or soon after. M, O, by a feeble modern perversion, make her go into a convent.
Italian ballads cover very much the same ground as the French. The versions hitherto published are:
A. 'La Lavandaia,' Cento, Ferraro, Canti popolari di Ferrara, Cento e Pontelagoscuro, p. 52, 16 verses, Romania, XI, 397, amended. B. 'Il Cavaliere della bella Spada,' Pontelagoscuro, Ferraro, p. 107, previously in Rivista di Filologia romanza, II, 205, 28 verses, Romania, XI, 398. C. Piedmont, communicated by Nigra, with other versions, to Romania, XI, 394, No 4, 48 verses. D. Romania, XI, 393 f, No 3, 34 verses. E. Ib. p. 385, No 6, 42 verses. F. Ib. p. 392 f, No 2, 46 verses. G. 'Conte Anzolin,' Wolf, Volkslieder aus Venetien, p. 61, 57 verses. H. Romania, XI, 396, No 7, 38 verses. I. Ib. p. 394 f, No 5, 26 verses. J. 'Il re Carlino,' Ferraro, Canti popolari monferrini, p. 34, 42 verses. K. Romania, XI, 392, No 1, 20 verses. L. 'Il Conte Angiolino,' Rovigno, Ive, Canti popolari istriani, p. 344, 34 verses. M. 'Il Conte Cagnolino,' Pontelagoscuro, Ferraro, as above, p. 84, Rivista di Filologia romanza, II, 196, 36 verses. All these are from recent tradition.
The name Rinaldo, Rinald, is found only in I, C, and the latter has also Lüis. Lüis is the name in E; Carlino, Carlin, in J, H; Angiolino, Anzolin, L, G; Cagnolino, M. The rank is king in C, E, H-K; prince, D; count G, L, M.
A and B, corrupted fragments though they be, retain clear traces of the ancient form of the story, and of the English variety of that form. Under the bridge of the Rella [Diamantina] a woman is washing clothes, gh' è 'na lavandera. A knight passes, B, and apparently accosts the laundress. She moves into the water, and the knight after her; the knight embraces her, A. Dowy rade he hame, el va a cà tüto mojà, A. In B (passing over some verses which have intruded) he has many knife-stabs, and his horse many also.[18] He asks his mother to put him to bed and his horse into the stable, and gives directions about his funeral.
All of the story which precedes the hero's return home is either omitted, D, F, J, K, L, or abridged to a single stanza: ven da la cassa lo re Rinald, ven da la cassa, l'e tüt ferì, C; ven da la guerra re Rinaldo, ven da la guerra, l'e tüt ferì, I, E, H; save that G, which like C makes him to have been hunting (and to have been bitten by a mad dog), adds that, while he was hunting, his wife had given birth to a boy. M has an entirely false beginning: Count Cagnolino was disposed to marry, but wished to be secure about his wife's previous life. He had a marble statue in his garden which moved its eyes when any girl that had gone astray presented herself before it. The daughter of Captain Tartaglia baving been declined, for reason, and another young woman espoused, Tartaglia killed the count while they were hunting.
The wounded man, already feeling the approach of death, F, G, L, asks that his bed may be made; he shall die before the morrow, D, F, J; let not his wife know, F, G. The wife asks why the men-servants, coachmen, are weeping, and is told that they have drowned [lost] some of the horses, C-J, M [have burned the king's carriage, K]. We will get others when the king comes, she answers, C, D, H [when I get up, F, as in Breton A]. Why are the maids weeping? The maids have lost sheets or towels in washing, F, I, K; have scorched the shirts in ironing, C, D, H. When the king comes, he will buy or bring better, C, D, H [when I get up, F, as in Breton A]. Why are tbe priests chanting? For a great feast to-morrow, F. Why are the carpenters at work? They are making a cradle for your boy, C-E, H-K. Why do the bells ring? A great lord is dead; in honor of somebody or something; C, E-L. Why does not Anzolin come to see me? He has gone a-hunting, G, L. What dress shall I put on to go to church? [When I get up I shall put on red, F, I.] You in black and I in gray, as in our country is the way, C-F, H, I [H moda a Paris, by corruption of dël pais]; I white, you gray, J; you will look well in black, M; put on red, or put on white, or put on black for custom's sake, G. The children in the street say, That is the wife of the lord who was buried, or the people look at the lady in a marked way, C, J, G, M; and why is this? For the last time the mother-in-law puts off the question. At the church, under the family bench, there is a grave new made, and now it has to be said that the husband is buried there, C-K, M.
A conclusion is wanting in half of the ballads what there is is corrupted in others. The widow commends her boy to her husband's mother, G, M, and says she will die with her dear one, D, E, J, M. In C, as in French V, she wishes to speak to her husband. If the dead ever spake to the quick, she would speak once to her dear Lüis; if the quick ever spake to the dead, she would speak once to her dear husband. In G she bids the grave unlock, that she may come into the arms of ber beloved, and then bids it close, that in his arms she may stay: cf. French Y, Q, X, R, AA.
The story of the Italian ballad, under the title of 'Il Conte Angiolino,' was given in epitome by Luigi Carrer, in his Prose e Poesie, Venice, 1838, IV, 81 f, before any copy had been published (omitted in later editions). According to Carrer's version, the lady, hearing bells, and seeing from her windows the church lighted up as for some office, extracts the fact from her mother-in-law on the spot, and then, going to the church and seeing her husband's tomb, prays that it would open and receive her.
A fragment of an Italian ballad given by Nigra, Romania, XI, 396, No 8, describes three card players, quarrelling over their game, as passing from words to knives, and from knives to pistols, and one of the party, the king of Spain, as being wounded in the fray. He rides home with a depressed air, and asks his motber to make his bed, for he shall be dead at midnight and his horse at dawn. There is a confusion of two stories here, as will be seen from Spanish ballads which are to be spoken of. Both stories are mixed with the original adventure of the mermaid in 'Il Cavaliere della bella spada,' already referred to as B. In this last the knight has a hundred and fifty stabs, and his horse ninety.[19]
Nigra has added to the valuable and beautiful ballads furnished to Romania, XI, a. tale (p. 398) from the province of Turin, which preserves the earlier portion of the Breton story. A hunter comes upon a beautiful woman under a rock. She requires him to marry her, and is told by the hunter that he is already married. The beautiful woman, who is of course a fairy, presents the hunter with a box for his wife, which he is not to open. This box contains an explosive girdle, intended to be her death; and the hunter's curiosity impelling him to examine the gift, he is so much injured by a detonation which follows that be can just drag himself home to die.
Spanish. This ballad is very common in Catalonia, and has been found in Asturias. Since it is also known in Portugal, we may presume that it might be recovered in other parts of the peninsula. A. 'La bona viuda,' Briz, Cansons de la Terra, III, 155, 32 verses. B. 'La Viuda,' 33 verses, Milá y Fontanals, Romancerillo Catalan, 2d. ed., p. 155, No 204. C-I. Ib. p. 156 f. J. Ib. p. 157 f, No 2041, 36 verses. K. 'Romance de Doña Ana,' Asturias, the argument only, Amador de los Rios, Historia Critica de la Literatura Española, VII, 446, being No 30 of that author's unpublished collection.
The name of the husband is Don Joan de Sevilla, D, Don Joan, F, Don Olalbo, I, Don Francisco, J, Don Pedro, K. His wife, a princess, A, G, has given birth to a child, or is on the eve of so doing. The gentleman is away from home, or is about to leave home on a pilgrimage of a year and a day, A, G; has gone to war, D; to a hunt, I, K. He dies just as he returns home or is leaving home, or away from home, in other versions, but in K comes back in a dying condition, and begs that his state may be concealed from his wife. The lady, hearing a commotion in the house, and asking the cause, is told that it is the noisy mirth of the servants, A-D. There is music, chanting, tolling of bells; and this is said to be for a great person who has died, B, D, A. In B, D, the wife asks, Can it be for my husband? In J the mother-in-law explains her own sorrowful demeanor as occasioned by the death of an uncle, and we are informed that the burial was without bells, in order that the new mother might not hear. In J only do we have the question, 'Where is my husband? He has been summoned to court, says the mother-in-law, where, as a favorite, he will stay a year an ten days. When should the young mother go to mass? Peasants go after a fortnight, tradesfolk after forty days, etc.; she, as a great lady, will wait a year and a day, A, D, I, a year, B, a year and ten days, J. What dress should she wear, silk, gold tissue, silver? etc. Black would become her best, A, J, K. [Doña Ana, in K, like the lady in Italian G, resists the suggestion of mourning, as proper only for a widow, and appears in a costume de Pascua florida: in some other copies also she seems to wear a gay dress.] The people, the children, point to her, and say, There is the widow. and her mother-in-law parries the inquiry why she is the object of remark; but the truth is avowed when they see a grave digging, and the wife asks for whom it is, A. In J the lady sees a monument in the church, hung with black, reads her husband's name, and swoons. B, C make the mother's explanation follow upon the children's talk. In K the announcement is made first by a shepherd, then confirmed by gaping spectators and by a rejected lover. The widow commends her child to its grandmother, and says she will go to her husband in heaven, A-D; dies on the spot, K; Don Francisco dies in March, Doña Ana in May, J.
'Don Joan y Don Ramon' is a ballad in which a young man returns to his mother mortally wounded, and therefore would be likely to blend in the memory of reciters with any other ballad in which the same incident occurred. A version from the Balearic Islands may be put first, which has not yet taken up any characteristic part of the story of Renaud: Recuerdos y Bellezas de España, Mallorca, p. 336, 1842 = Milá, 1853, p. 114, No 15, Briz, III, 172; Die Balearen in Wort und Bild geschildert, by the Archduke Ludwig Salvator, Leipzig, 1871, II, 556.[20]
Don Joan and Don Ramon are returning from the chase. Don Ramon falls from his horse; Don Joan rides off. Don Ramon's mother sees her son coming through a field, gathering plants to heal his wounds. "What is the matter?" she asks; "you are pale." "I have been bled, and they made a mistake." " Ill luck to the barber!" "Curse him not; it is the last time. Between me and my horse we have nine and twenty lance thrusts; the horse has nine and I the rest. The horse will die tonight and I in the morning. Bury him in the best place in the stable, and me in St. Eulalia; lay a sword crosswise over my grave, and if it is asked who killed me, let the answer be, Don Joan de la cassada."
There are numerous Catalan versions, and most of them add something to this story: Milá, 2d ed., 'El guerrero mal herido,' p. 171, No 210, A-F, A1, G1, A11; Briz, III, 171 f, two copies. These disagree considerably as to the cause of the hero's death, and the names are not constant. In A1 of Milá, as in the Balearic ballad, Don Joan and Don Ramon are coming from the chase, and have a passage at lances; Don Joan is left dead, and Don Ramon is little short of it. A, B, of Milá, tell us that Don Pedro died on the field of battle and Don Joan came home mortally wounded. E says that Don Joan and Don Ramon come from the chase, but Don Joan immediately, says that he comes from a great battle. It is battle in F1, in E1 (with Gastó returning), and in both the Catalan copies of Briz, the hero being Don Joan in the first of these last, and in the other nameless. The wounded man says he has been badly bled, Milá, A, B, A1, C1, Briz 2; he and his horse have lance wounds fifty-nine, thirty-nine, twenty-nine, etc., the horse nine and he the rest, Milá, A, B, E, A1, Briz 1. His mother informs him that his wife has borne a child, "a boy like the morning star," Briz. 1, and says that if he will go to the best chamber he will find her surrounded by dames and ladies. This gives him no pleasure; he does not care for wife, nor dames, nor ladies, nor boys, nor morning stars: Briz 1, Milá, A1-G1. He asks to have his bed made, Milá, A-D, B1, C1, Briz 1, 2, for he shall die at midnight and his horse at dawn, A-D, A1, Briz 2, and gives directions for his burial and that of his horse. Let the bells toll when he is dead, and when people ask for whom it is, the answer will be, For Don Joan, Briz 1, Gastó, Milá, E1, who was killed in battle. Let his arms be put over the place where his horse is buried, and when people ask whose arms they are his mother will say, My son's, who died in battle, Milá A, B1. Let a drawn sword be laid across his grave, and let those that ask who killed him be told, Don Joan, at the chase, Milá, A1.[21]
We have, probably, to do with two different ballads here, versions A-F of Milá's 'Guerrero mal herido,' and Briz's second, belonging with 'Don Joan y Don Ramon,' while A1-G1 of Milá, and Briz's first, represent a ballad of the Renaud class. It is, however, possible that the first series may be imperfect copies of the second.
'Don Joan y Don Ramon' has agreements with Italian B, A: in B, particularly, we note the hundred and fifty stabs of the knight and the ninety of his horse.
Portuguese. A good Portuguese version, 'D. Pedro e D. Leonarda,' in fifty short verses, unfortunately lacking the conclusion, has been lately communicated to Romania. (XI, 585) by Leite de Vasconcellos. Dom Pedro went hunting, to be gone a year and a day, but was compelled to return home owing to a malady which seized him. His mother greets him with the information that his wife has given birth to a son. "Comfort and cheer her," he says, "and for me make a bed, which I shall never rise from." The wife asks, Where is my husband, that he does not come to see me? "He has gone a-hunting for a year and a day," replies the mother. What is this commotion in the house? "Only visitors." But the bells are tolling! Could it be for my husband? "No, no; it is for a feast-day." When do women go to mass after child-birth? "Some in three weeks and some in two, but a lady of your rank after a year and a day." And what color do they wear? "Some light blue and some a thousand wonders, but you, as a lady of rank, will go in mourning." The ballad stops abruptly with a half-pettish, half-humorous imprecation from the daughter-in-law against the mother for keeping her shut up so long.
There is a Slavic ballad, which, like the versions that are so popular with the Romance nations, abridges the first part of the story, and makes the interest turn upon the gradual discovery of the hero's death, but in other respects agrees with northern tradition.
Bohemian. A a. Erben, p. 473, No 9, Heřman a Dornička = Waldau, Böhmische Granaten, I, 73, No 100; b. Čelakowsky, I, 26 = Haupt u. Schmaler, I, 327. B. Erben, p. 475. C. Moravian, Sušil, p. 82, No 89 a, 'Nešt'astná svatba,' 'The Doleful Wedding.' D. Sušil, p. 83, No 89 b. E. Slovak, Čelakowsky, I, 80.
Wendish. A. Haupt und Schmaler, I, 31, No 3, 'Zrudny kwas,' 'The Doleful Wedding,' B. II, 131, No 182, 'Plakajuen ńeẃesta,' 'The Weeping Bride' (the last eight stanzas, the ten before being in no connection).
The hero on his wedding day is making ready his horse to fetch the bride; for he is, as in the Scandinavian ballads, not yet a married man. His mother, Bohemian A, ascertaining his intention, begs him not to go himself with the bridal escort. Obviously she has a premonition of misfortune. Herman will never invite guests, and not go for them. The mother, in an access of passion, exclaims, If you go, may you break your neck, and never come back! Here we are reminded of the Färöe ballad. Bohemian C, D make the forebodings to rise in Herman's mind, not in his mother's. The mother opposes the match in Bohemian E, and the sister wishes that he may break his neck. Wendish A has nothing of opposition or bodement before the start, but the crows go winging about the young men who are going for the bride, and caw a horrible song, how the bridegroom shall fall from his horse and break his neck. The train sets off with a band of trumpets, drums, and stringed instruments, or, Bohemian D, with a discharge of a hundred muskets, and when they come to a linden in a meadow Herman's horse "breaks his foot," and the rider his neck; Bohemian D, when they come to a copse in a meadow the hundred pieces are again discharged, and Herman is mortally wounded. His friends stand debating what they shall do. The dying man bids them keep on: since the bride cannot be his, she shall be his youngest brother's, Bohemian A, C; cf. Danish L, O, R, Norwegian C, F. The train arrives at the bride's house; the bride comes out to greet them, but, not seeing the bridegroom, inquires affrightedly what has become of him. They pretend that he has remained at home to see to the tables. The mother is reluctant to give them the bride, but finally yields. When the train comes again to the linden in the mead, Dorothy sees blood. It is Herman's! she cries; but they assure her that it is the blood of a deer that Herman had killed for the feast. They reach Herman's house, where the bride has an appalling reception, which need not be particularized.
In Bohemian A, while they are at supper (or at half-eve = three in the afternoon), a death-bell is heard. Dorothy turns pale. For whom are they tolling? Surely it is for Herman. They tell her that Herman is lying in his room with a bad headache, and that the bell is ringing for a child. But she guesses the truth, sinks down and dies, a. She wears two knives in her hair, and thrusts one of them into her heart, b. The two are buried in one grave. In Bohemian B the bell sounds for the first time as the first course is brought on, and a second time when the second course comes. The bride is told in each case that the knell is for a child. Upon the third sounding, when the third course is brought in, they tell her that it is for Herman. She seizes two knives and runs to the graveyard: with one she digs herself a grave, and with the other stabs herself. In the Wendish fragment B, at the first and second course (there is no bell) the bride asks where the bridegroom is, and at the third repeats the question with tears. She is told that he is ranging the woods, killing game for his wedding. In Bohemian C the bell tolls while they are getting the table ready. The bride asks if it is for Herman, and is told that it is for a child. When they sit down to table, the bells toll again. For whom should this be? For whom but Herman? She springs out of the window, and the catastrophe is the same as in Bohemian B. In D the bride hears the bell as the train is approaching the house, and they say it is for a child. On entering the court she asks where Herman is. He is in the cellar drawing wine for his guests. She asks again for Herman as the company sits down to table, and the answer is, In the chamber, lying in a coffin. She springs from the table and rushes to the chamber, seizing two golden knives, one of which she plunges into her heart. In Bohemian E, when the bride arrives at John the bridegroom's house, and asks where he is, they tell her she had better go to bed till midnight. The moment she touches John she springs out of bed, and cries, Dear people, why have ye laid a living woman with a dead man? They stand, saying, What shall we give her, a white cap or a green chaplet? "I have not deserved the white (widow's) cap," she says; "I have deserved a green chaplet." In Wendish A, when the bell first knolls, the bride asks, Where is the bridegroom? and they answer, In the new chamber, putting on his fine clothes. A second toll evokes a second inquiry; and they say he is in the new room, putting on his sword. The third time they conceal nothing: He fell off his horse and broke his neck. "Then tear off my fine clothes and dress me in white, that I may mourn a year and a day, and go to church in a green chaplet, and never forget him that loved me!" It will be remembered that the bride takes her own life in Norwegian A, C, D, and in Swedish E, as she does in Bohemian A b, B, C, D.
B is translated by Grundtvig, Engelske og skotske Folkeviser, p. 305, No 48; by Doenniges, p. 25.
'Der Ritter von Staufenberg' is translated by Jamieson, from the "Romanzen" in the Wunderhorn, in Illustrations of Northern Antiquities, p. 257. Danish A by Prior, II, 301; B by Jamieson, Popular Ballads, I, 219, and by Prior, II, 306, Buchanan, p. 52. 'The Erl-King's Daughter,' "Danish," in Lewis's Tales of Wonder, I, 53, No 10, is rendered from Herder. Swedish A by Keightley, Fairy Mythology, p. 84; B by Keightley, p. 82, and by William and Mary Howitt, Literature and Romance of Northern Europe, I, 269. There is a version from Swedish by J. H. Dixon, in Notes and Queries, 4th Series, I, 168. Breton D by Keightley, as above, p. 433, and by Tom Taylor, Ballads and Songs of Brittany, 'Lord Nann and the Fairy,' p. 9. Bohemian A b by Bowring, Cheskian Anthology, p. 69.
Footnotes:
1. "From a Manuscript in my grandfather's writing, with the following note: Copied from an old Manuscript in the possession of Alexander Fraser Tytler." Note of Miss Mary Fraser Tytler. The first stanza agrees with that which is cited from the original by Dr. Anderson in Nichols's Illustrations, VII, 177, and the number of stanzas is the same.
Colvill, which has become familiar from Herd's copy, is the correct form, and Colven, Colvin, a vulgarized one, which in C lapses into Colin.
2. Still, though these particular verses appear to have come from 'The Drowned Lovers,' they may represent other original ones which were to the same effect. See, further on, the beginning of some Färöe versions.
3. Hoc equidem a viris omni exceptione majoribus quotidie scimus probatum, quod quosdam hujusmodi larvarum quas fadas nominant amatores audivimus, et cum ad aliarum foeminarum matrimonia se transtulerunt, ante mortuos quam cum superinductis carnali se copula immiscuerunt. Des Gervasius von Tilbury Otia Imperialia (of about 1211), Liebrecht, p. 41.
4. Der Ritter von Stauffenberg, from a Manuscript of perhaps 1437, C.M. Engelhardt, Strassburg, 1823. Edited by Oskar Jänicke, in Altdeutsche Studien von O. Jänicke, E. Steinmeyer, W. Wilmanns, Berlin, 1871. Die Legende vom Ritter Herrn Peter Diemringer von Staufenberg in der Ortenau, reprint by F. Culemann of the Strassburg edition of Martin Schott, 1480-82. The old printed copy was made over by Fischart in 1588 (Jobin, Strassburg, in that year), and this 'ernewerte Beschreibung der alten Geschicht' is rehashed in seven 'Romanzen' in Wunderhorn, I, 407-18, ed 1806, 401-12, ed. 1853. Simrock, Die deutschen Volksbücher, III, 1-48.
5. Engelhardt, pp 6, 13 f: Sagen aus Baden und der Umgegend, Carlsruhe, 1834, pp 107-122.
6. Separately printed, under the title, Elveskud, dansk, svensk, norsk, færøsk, islandsk, skotsk, vendisk, bømisk, tysk, fransk, italiensk, katalonsk, spansk, bretonsk Folkevise, i overblik ved Svend Grundtvig. Kiøbenhavn, 1881.
7. In 'Jomfruen og Dværgekongen,' C 25, 26, Grundtvig, No 37, the woman who has been carried off to the hill, wishing to die, asks that atter-corns may be put into her drink. She evidently gets, however, only the villar-konn, elvar-konn, of Landstad, Nos 42-45, which are of lethean property. But in J. og D. F, we may infer an atter-corn, though none is mentioned, from the effect of the draughts, which is that belt, stays, and sark successively burst. See p. 363 f.
8. So, also, Swedish A, F, Norwegian A, C. This is a cantrip sleight of the elves. The Icelandic burden supposes this illumination, "The low was burning red;" and when Olaf seeks to escape, in Norwegian A, C, E, G, I, K, he has to make his way through the elf-flame, elvelogi.
9. Grundtvig remarks that Herder's translation, 'Erlkönigs Tochter,' Volkslieder, II, 158, took so well with the Germans that at last it came to pass for an original German ballad. The Wunderhorn, I, 261, ed. 1806, gives it with the title, 'Herr Olof,' as from a flying sheet (= Scherer's Deutsche Volkslieder, 1851, p. 371). It Appears, with some little changes, in Zarnack's Deutsche Volkslieder, 1819, 1, 29, whence it passed into Erlach, IV, 6, and Richter und Marschner, p. 60. Kretzschmer has the translation, again, with a variation here and there, set to a "North German" and to a "Westphalian" air, p. 8, p. 9.
10. Owing to a close resemblance of circumstances in 'The Elf-shot: in 'Frillens Hævn' ('The Leman's Wreak'), Grundtvig, No 208, and in 'Ribald ag Guldborg,' Grundtvig, No 82, these ballads naturully have details in common. The pretence that the horse was not sure-footed and hurtled his rider against a tree; the request to mother, father, etc., to make the bed, take care of the horse, apply a bandage, send for a priest, etc.; the testament, the assignment of the bride by the dying man to his brother, and her declaration that she will never give her troth to two brothers; and the nearly simultaneous death of hero, bride, and mother, occur in many versions of both Elveskud and Ribold, and most of them in Frillens Hævn. A little Danish ballad, 'Hr. Olufs Død,' cited by Grundtvig, IV, 847, seems to be Elveskud with the elf-shot omitted.
11. Luzel was in possession of other versions, but he assures us that every detail is contained in one or the other of these three.
12. B 13, "You must marry me straightway, or give me my weight in silver;" then, "or die in three days," etc. It is not impossible that this stanza, entirely out of place in this ballad, was derived from 'Le Comte des Chapelles,' Luzel, p. 457, from which certain French versions have taken a part of their story. See Luzel, the eighth and ninth stanzas, on p.461.
13. B 50, "A white gown, or broget, or my violet petticoat?" Luzel says he does not understand broget, and in his Observations, prefixed to the volume, expresses a conjecture that it must have been altered from droged, robe d'enfant, robe de femme, but we evidently want a color. Grundtvig remarks that broget would make sense in Danish, where it means party-colored. Scotch broakit is black and white. Icelandic brók, tartan, party-colored cloth, is said to be from Gaelic , versicolor (Vigfusson). This points to a suitable meaning for Breton broget.
14. D adds: "It was a marvel to see, the night after husband and wife had been buried, two oaks rise from the common tomb, and on their branches two white doves, which sang there at daybreak, and then took flight for the skies."
15. It will be observed that some of the Renaud ballads in the Poésies populaires de la France were derived from earlier publications: such as were communicated by collectors appear to have been sent in in 1852 or 1853. The versions cited by Rathery, Revue Critique, II, 287 ff, are all from the Manuscript Poésies populaires. BB, CC have either been overlooked by me in turning over the first five volumes, or occur in vol. vi, which has not yet been received. GG came to hand too late to be ranked at its proper place.
16. In C the mother-in-law tells her daughter, austerely:
Vous aurez plutôt trouvé un mari
Que moi je n'aurai trouvé un fils.
So E, nearly. A mother makes a like remark to the betrothed of a dead son in the Danish ballad of 'Ebbe Tygesen,' Grundtvig, Danske Kæmpeviser og Folkesange, fornyede i gammel Stil, 1867, p. 122, st. 14. F and T conclude with these words of the wife:
'Ma mere, dites au fossoyeur
Qu'il creuse une fosse pour deux;
'Et que l'espace y soit si grand
Que l'on y mette aussi l'enfant.'
The burial of father, mother, and child in a common grave is found elsewhere in ballads, as in 'Redselille og Medelvold,' Grundtvig, No 271, A 37, G 20, M 26, X 27.
17. Shutting our eyes to other Romance versions, or, we may say, opening them to Scandinavian ones, we might see in these stabs the wounds made by the elf-knives in Danish D, G, H, N, O, R, X, Swedish G, Norwegian H, I. See 'Don Joan y Don Ramon,' further on.
18. The ballad of 'Luggieri,' published by Salvatori in the Rassegna Settimanale, Rome, June 22, 1879, and reprinted by Nigra in Romania, XI, 391 (a variety of 'Rizzardo bello,' Wolf, Volkslieder aus Venetien, p. 62, No 83), appears to me not to belong with 'Renaud,' but with the class of 'The Cruel Brother,' as already remarked of the Venetian ballad at p. 142.
19. The version in the Recuerdos was obtained in Majorca by Don J. M. Quadrado. The editor remarks that the employment of the articles Il and La instead of Es and Sa proves it to be as old as the sixteenth century. Die Balenren, etc., is cited after Grundtvig.
20. I do not entirely understand Professor Milá's arrangement of those texts which he has not printed in full, and it is very likely that more of his copies than I have cited exhibit some of the traits specified.
Brief Description by George Lyman Kittredge
All the English versions are deplorably imperfect. Clerk Colvill is not, as his representative is or may be in other ballads, the guiltless and guileless object of the love or envy of a water-sprite or elf. It is clear that before his marriage with his gay lady he had been in the habit of resorting to this mermaid, and equally clear, from the impatient answer which he renders his dame, that he means to visit her again. His death is the natural penalty of his desertion of the water-nymph; for no point is better established than the fatal consequences of inconstancy in such connections. His history, were it fully told, would closely resemble that of the Knight of Staufenberg, as narrated in a German poem of about the year 1310. Clerk Colvill and the mermaid are represented by Sir Oluf and an elf in Scandinavian ballads to the number of about seventy. The oldest of these is derived from a Danish manuscript of 1550, two centuries and a half later than the Staufenberg poem, but two earlier than Clerk Colvill, the oldest ballad outside of the Scandinavian series (see Grundtvig, No. 47). The Breton 'Seigneur Nann' is closely akin to the Scandinavian versions, and the ballad has spread, apparently from Brittany, over all France ('Jean Renaud').
Child's Ballad Texts A-C
'Clark Colven'- Version A Child 42 Clerk Colvill
From a transcript from William Tytler's Brown Manuscript.
1 Clark Colven and his gay ladie,
As they walked to yon garden green,
A belt about her middle gimp,
Which cost Clark Colven crowns fifteen:
2 'O hearken weel now, my good lord,
O hearken weel to what I say;
When ye gang to the wall o Stream,
O gang nae neer the well-fared may.'
3 'O haud your tongue, my gay ladie,
Tak nae sic care o me;
For I nae saw a fair woman
I like so well as thee.'
4 He mounted on his berry-brown steed,
And merry, merry rade he on,
Till he came to the wall o Stream,
And there he saw the mermaiden.
5 'Ye wash, ye wash, ye bonny may,
And ay's ye wash your sark o silk:'
'It's a' for you, ye gentle knight,
My skin is whiter than the milk.'
6 He's taen her by the milk-white hand,
He's taen her by the sleeve sae green,
And he's forgotten his gay ladie,
And away with the fair maiden.
* * * * *
7 'Ohon, alas!' says Clark Colven,
'And aye sae sair's I mean my head!'
And merrily leugh the mermaiden,
'O win on till you be dead.
8 'But out ye tak your little pen-knife,
And frae my sark ye shear a gare;
Row that about your lovely head,
And the pain ye'll never feel nae mair.'
9 Out he has taen his little pen-knife,
And frae her sark he's shorn a gare,
Rowed that about his lovely head,
But the pain increased mair and mair.
10 'Ohon, alas!' says Clark Colven,
'An aye sae sair's I mean my head!'
And merrily laughd the mermaiden,
'It will ay be war till ye be dead.'
11 Then out he drew his trusty blade,
And thought wi it to be her dead,
But she's become a fish again,
And merrily sprang into the fleed.
12 He's mounted on his berry-brown steed,
And dowy, dowy rade he home,
And heavily, heavily lighted down
When to his ladie's bower-door he came.
13 'Oh, mither, mither, mak my bed,
And, gentle ladie, lay me down;
Oh, brither, brither, unbend my bow,
'Twill never be bent by me again.'
14 His mither she has made his bed,
His gentle ladie laid him down,
His brither he has unbent his bow,
'Twas never bent by him again.
--------------
'Clerk Colvill, or, The Mermaid'- Version B; Child 42 Clerk Colvill
Herd's Ancient and Modern Scots Songs, 1769, p. 302: ed. 1776, I, 161.
1 Clerk Colvill and his lusty dame
Were walking in the garden green;
The belt around her stately waist
Cost Clerk Colvill of pounds fifteen.
2 'O promise me now, Clerk Colvill,
Or it will cost ye muckle strife,
Ride never by the wells of Slane,
If ye wad live and brook your life.'
3 'Now speak nae mair, my lusty dame,
Now speak nae mair of that to me;
Did I neer see a fair woman,
But I wad sin with her body?'
4 He's taen leave o his gay lady,
Nought minding what his lady said,
And he's rode by the wells of Slane,
Where washing was a bonny maid.
5 'Wash on, wash on, my bonny maid,
That wash sae clean your sark of silk;'
'And weel fa you, fair gentleman,
Your body whiter than the milk.'
* * * * *
6 Then loud, loud cry'd the Clerk Colvill,
'O my head it pains me sair;'
'Then take, then take,' the maiden said,
'And frae my sark you'll cut a gare.'
7 Then she's gied him a little bane-knife,
And frae her sark he cut a share;
She's ty'd it round his whey-white face,
But ay his head it aked mair.
8 Then louder cry'd the Clerk Colvill,
'O sairer, sairer akes my head;'
'And sairer, sairer ever will,'
The maiden crys, 'Till you be dead.'
9 Out then he drew his shining blade,
Thinking to stick her where she stood,
But she was vanishd to a fish,
And swam far off, a fair mermaid.
10 'O mother, mother, braid my hair;
My lusty lady, make my bed;
O brother, take my sword and spear,
For I have seen the false mermaid.'
----------
'Clerk Colin'- Version C; Child 42 Clerk Colvill
Notes and Queries, 4th Series, VIII, 510, from the recitation of a lady in Forfarshire.
1 Clerk Colin and his mother dear
Were in the garden green;
The band that was about her neck
Cost Colin pounds fifteen;
The belt about her middle sae sma
Cost twice as much again.
2 'Forbidden gin ye wad be, love Colin,
Forbidden gin ye wad be,
And gang nae mair to Clyde's water,
To court yon gay ladie.'
3 'Forbid me frae your ha, mother,
Forbid me frae your bour,
But forbid me not frae yon ladie;
She's fair as ony flour.
4 'Forbidden I winna be, mother,
Forbidden I winna be,
For I maun gang to Clyde's water,
To court yon gay ladie.'
5 An he is on his saddle set,
As fast as he could win,
An he is on to Clyde's water,
By the lee licht o the moon.
6 An when he cam to the Clyde's water
He lichted lowly down,
An there he saw the mermaiden,
Washin silk upon a stane.
7 'Come down, come down, now, Clerk Colin,
Come down an [fish] wi me;
I'll row ye in my arms twa,
An a foot I sanna jee.'
* * * * *
8 'O mother, mother, mak my bed,
And, sister, lay me doun,
An brother, tak my bow an shoot,
For my shooting is done.'
9 He wasna weel laid in his bed,
Nor yet weel fa'en asleep,
When up an started the mermaiden,
Just at Clerk Colin's feet.
10 'Will ye lie there an die, Clerk Colin,
Will ye lie there an die?
Or will ye gang to Clyde's water,
To fish in flood wi me?'
11 'I will lie here an die,' he said,
'I will lie here an die;
In spite o a' the deils in hell
I will lie here an die.'
End-Notes
A. 73. laugh; but we have laughd in 103.
93. Rowed seems to be written Round, possibly Rowad.
143. brother.
B. 54. The edition of 1776 has body's.
C. 7. When they part he returns home, and on the way his head becomes "wondrous sair:" seemingly a comment of the reciter.
The Abbotsford copy in "Scottish Songs," fol. 3, has these readings, not found in Lewis, the Brown Manuscript, or Herd.
32. And dinna deave me wi your din: Lewis,
And haud, my Lady gay, your din,
63. He's laid her on the flowery green.
"Additions and Corrections"
P. 371, No 42, p. 389. C in Findlay Manuscripts, I, 141: 'Clerk Colin,' from Miss Butchart, Arbroath, 1868. Miss Butchart, who died about 1890, aged above ninety years, was the daughter of the Mrs. Butchart from whom Kinloch got certain ballads, and niece to the Mrs. Arrot who was one of Jamieson's contributors. In the Manuscript there are these readings:
23. To gang.
43. maun gae.
52. could gang.
61. To Clyde's.
374 b, IV, 459 a. Danish. 'Elveskud,' Kristensen, Skattegraveren, XII, 54, No 125; 'Elvedansen,' Folkeminder, XI, 15, No 17, A-C.
380, II, 506 a, III, 506 a, IV, 459 a. TT, 'La chanson de Renaud,' Pineau, Le Folk-Lore du Poitou, p. 399; UU, 'La Mort de Jean Raynaud, Wallonia, I, 22.
VV, WW. Versions de la Bresse, one, and a fragment, J. Tiersot, Revue des Traditions Populaires, VII, 654 ff.
382, II, 506 a, III, 506 a. Italian. N. 'El conte Anzolin,' Villanis, Canzoni pop. Zaratine, Archivio, XI, 32. A burlesque form in Canti pop. Emiliani, Maria Carmi, Archivio, XII, 186, and a Venetian rispetto of the same character (noted by Maria Carmi) in Bernoni, Canti pop. Veneziani, 1873, Puntata 7, p. 12, No 62.
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[P. 372 b. Der Ritter von Staufenberg. See the edition by Edward Schröder: Zwei altdeutsche Rittermären, Moriz von Craon, Peter von Staufenberg. Berlin, 1894. Schröder dates the composition of the poem about 1310 (p. LI). He shows that Schott's edition, which Culemann followed, was a reprint of one printed by Prüss in 1483 at the earliest, but thinks that it followed that of Prüss at no long interval (p. XXXIV). Cf. also Schorbach, Zeitschr. f. deutsches Altertum, XL, 123 ff.]
374-78. The mother's attempt to conceal the death of her son from his wife occurs also in 'Ebbe Tygesens Dødsridt' and 'Hr. Magnuses Dødsridt,' Olrik, Danske Ridderviser, Nos 320, 321, and Swedish copies of the former; borrowed no doubt from 'Elveskud.'
380, II, 506 a, III, 506 a, IV, 459 a, V, 216 a. Add: XX, 'La Mort de Jean Renaud,' Beauquier, Chansons p. recueillies en Franche-comté, p. 152.