English & Other Versions 209. Geordie
CONTENTS:
Author(s): Michael Yates
Source:
Folk Music Journal
, Vol. 3, No. 1, Music of the Travelling People (1975), pp. 63-80
Published by: English Folk Dance + Song Society
GEORGIE
Recorded by Mike Yates Levi Smith, Surrey.
May 1974
Note: - A few of the F. sharps in this tune are sung flat, but in the
transcriber's opinion are nearer F sharp than F natural.
Oh there's what did Geor-gie done on Shoot-er's Hill?
Did he stole or mur-der by ma-ny?
Yes he stole six-teen of the Lord Jud-ges deers
And we sold them down un-der the val-ley.
2. "Come saddle to me," said my lilly white breast,
"Come saddle to me," said my pony.
With bright guns in his hand and his sword by his side,
For I spare me the life of my Georgie.
3. For as George were laying in the frames of gold,
For the frames of gold you can't find many.
For he's willing to part, that's all she have got,
If you spare her the life of my Georgie.
4. For as Georgie is the father of six babes, love.
For the seventh one into her body.
For he's willing to part, that's all he has got,
If you spare me the life of my Georgie.
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From One Hundred English Folksongs; Sharp
Come, bridle me my milkwhite steed,
Come bridle me my pony,
That I may ride to fair London town
To plead for my Geordie.
And when she entered in the hall
There were lords and ladies plenty.
Down on her knees she then did fall
To plead for the life of Geordie.
It's six pretty babes that I have got,
The seventh lies in my body;
I'll freely part with them ev'ry one,
If you'll spare me the life of Geordie.
Then George looked round the court,
And saw his dearest Polly;
He said, "My dear, you've come too late,
For I'm condemn'd already!
Then the judge he looked down on him
And said, I'm sorry for thee,
'Tis thine own confession hath hanged thee,
May the Lord have mercy upon thee.
O Geordie stole nor cow nor calf
And he never murder'd any,
But he stole sixteen of the king's white steeds,
And sold them in Bohenny.
Let Geordie hang in golden chains,
(His crimes were never many),
Because he came of royal blood
And courted a virtuous lady.
I wish I were in yonder grave,
Where times I have been many,
With the broad sword and my pistol too
I'd fight for the life of Geordie.
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17. "Geordie"
Hammond MSS., No. :38; text, D.VI,
Henry Way, Bridport, Dorset' 1905-08.
pD/E
1. As we rode over London Bridge
One Midsummer morning so earlY
Oh ! there I behold a lady fair
Lamenting for her Georgie.
z. George never stole ox nor sheep
Nor cattle he stole nor any
But he stole six of the King's fat deer
And sold them undervally.
3. I wish I were on yonder hills
Where kisses they are plenty
With my sword and pistol in my hand,
I will fight for the life of Georgie.
4. So have you got some nice little boy
That will run an errand so early
That will run five miles in one half ho,*
With a letter to my Georgie.
5. George be hunged in golden chains
And as due to him as any
Because he was one of the royal ro,vai :
And he married with a gay young lady.
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Spare Me The Life Of Geordie, sung by Roy Bailey, on New Bell Wake, 1976. From Songs of the Midlands, edited by Roy Palmer.
As I rode over London Bridge
'T was on one morning early
There I espied a fair lady
Lamenting for her Georgie
Come fetch to me some little boy
That can go on an errand quickly
That can run ten miles in an hour
With a letter for a lady
Come saddle me my milk white steed
And bridle it most rarely
That I may go to Newcastle jail
And beg for the life of Georgie
When she got to Newcastle jail
She bowed her head so lowly
Three times on her bended knees did fall
Saying - Spare me the life of Georgie
It is no murder George have done
Nor have he killed any
He stole sixteen of the king's fat deer
And sold them in the army.
Well, the judge look'd over his right shoulder
And seeming very sorry
He says - My dear, you are now too late
He's condemned already
Oh six pretty babes have I got with me
And I love them most dearly
I would freely part with them every one
If you'll spare me the life of Georgie
Well, the judge look'd over his left shoulder
And seeming very hard-hearted
He says - My dear, you are too late
There is no pardon granted
Oh Geordie shall hang in a chain of gold
Which are few, there are not many
Because he came of a noble line
And was loved by a virtuous lady
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Bohenny (Geordie) / Louisa Hooper [sound recording]
Title
Bohenny (Geordie) [sound recording]
Alternate Title: Geordie
Recordist: British Broadcasting Corporation
Singer: Hooper, Louisa
Places of Publication: Hambridge, Langport, England
Somerset County, England
Type of Material: sound recording
Date Recorded: 02-07-1942
Performance note
Sung by Mrs. Louisa Hooper.
4014 - BBC record no.
Subject
United Kingdom--England--Somerset--Hambridge, Langport AFS Number
AFS 09013 B Repository
American Folklife Center, Library of Congress
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From The Songs of Scotland, Ancient and Modern, Vol. II, by Allan Cunningham (London: John Taylor, 1825), page 186:
GEORDIE.
There was a battle in the north,
And it was fought right proudlie;
And they have slain Sir Charlie Hay,
And laid the wyte on Geordie.
Now he has written a lang letter—
O busk my bonnie ladie;
And haste, and come to Edinbrugh town,
And see what comes o' Geordie.
Whan first she looked the letter on,
She grew baith red and rosie;
But when she read a word or twa,
She wallow't like a lilie:
O saddle to me my gude gray steed—
My Gordons all come wi' me;
For I shall neither eat nor drink
Till my gude lord shall see me.
And soon she came to the water broad,
Nor boat nor barge was ready;
She turned her horse's head to the flood,
And swam through at Queensferry:
But when she to the presence came,
'Mang earls, high and lordlie;
There hat on head sat every man—
While hat in hand stood Geordie.
And there it stood, the fatal block;
The axe was sharp and ready:
Nor did the colour quit his cheek,
Nor was his step unsteady.
Though he was chained in fetters strang,
He looked both bold and lordlie:
O monie a gallant earl I've seen,
But neer a ane like Geordie.
That lady knelt low on her knee—
I wot both pale and wearie:—
O pardon, pardon, noble king,
And gie me back my dearie!
I have borne seven sons to my gude lord—
The seventh ne'er saw his daddie:—
O pity, pity, thou noble king!
O pity a woeful lady!
Gae bid the heading-man make haste,
The king said, stern and lordlie.
O noble king, take all that's mine—
But gie me back my Geordie.
The Gordons gude came gathering round—
A stark band and a steady;
And ay the word among them a'
Was, Gordons keep you ready.
An old lord at the king's right hand
Says, noble king, but hear me:—
Gar her pay down five thousand pound,
And gie her back her dearie.
Some gae her merks, some gae her crowns,
And bonnet pieces many;
And she's told down five thousand pounds,
And gotten again her dearie.
She blinkit blythe in her Geordie's face,
Says, dear I've bought thee, Geordie;
But there should been bloody sarks in the court
Ere I had tint my laddie.
He claspet her by the middle sae sma,
And he kist her lips fu' ready—
The fairest flower of womankind
Is my sweet bonnie lady.
This genuine old song relates to some forgotten feud between the powerful Gordons and Hays. The third verse is restored from the recitation of Mrs. Cunningham, and is one of the finest verses in the song. The courage of the lady in braving the flood, and the appearance of her lord abiding the judgment of his peers and his king, are briefly and naturally told. The concluding verse, too, is very characteristic. The lady was alike prepared to purchase her husband's freedom by silver or by sword; and like a prudent heroine, she chose the safest way and the best. It was first printed in the Museum, from a copy supplied by Burns, which, perhaps, accounts for the excellence of the concluding verse.
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Maiden’s Lamentation for her Georgy
1
As I rode over London bridge,
‘Twas in the morning early,
There did I spy a maiden fair,
Lamenting for her Georgy.
2
Georgy never stole ox or cow,
Nor calves he never stole any,
Six of the King’s white deer he stole,
And sold them at Broad Hembury.
3
Come saddle me my milk white steed,
Come saddle it so ready,
Then I will ride to my good Lord Judge
To beg for the life of my Georgy.
4
And when she came into the hall,
There was Lords and Ladies plenty,
And down on her bended knees did fall,
Spare me the life of my Georgy.
5
I have got sheep, I have got cows,
Oxen I have plenty,
And you shall them all your own,(sic)
Spare me the life of my Georgy.
6
The Judge he look’d over his left shoulder
Saying, Lady pray now be easy,
George hath confess’d, & die he must,
The Lord have mercy on my Georgy.
7
Georgy shall be hanged in a chain of gold
Such as you never saw many,
For George’s one of the British blood,
And he courted a virtuous Lady.
8
Who for him hath wept both night & day
And could not drive her sorrow away,
But she hoped to see that happy day,
To be blest once more with her Georgy.
9
Was I at the top of Prockter’s hill,
Where times I have been many,
With my pistol cock’d all in my hand,
I’d fight for the life of my Georgy.
The above version printed by T Birt of London is almost identical to those printed by Hook of Brighton, Pitts, and Catnach, and their followers in the trade, Hodges, Disley and Fortey, all of London. Broad Hembury is in Devon between Honiton and Cullompton, and there were lots of farmers of the name Prockter in the district in the early nineteenth century.
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The Maid’s Lamentation for the Loss of Her Georgy
1
As I rode over London bridge,
It was in the morning early,
There I heard a maiden sigh and complain,
Lamenting for her Georgy.
2
Come saddle me my milk white steed,
Come saddle it so ready.
And I will go to my good lord Judge,
And beg for the life of my Georgy
3
And when she came to my good lord Judge,
She was both wet and weary,
And on her bended knees did fall,
To beg the life of her Georgy.
4
She travelled till she got into the hall,
Where were lords and ladies plenty,
And on her bended knees did fall,
Saying spare me the life of my Georgy.
5
The judge looked over his left shoulder,
Saying lady I pray you be easy,
Your Georgy is condemned and die he must,
Then the Lord have mercy on my Georgy.
6
My Georgy never robb’d any man,
Never plundered any,
For stealing six of the King’s white deer,
And sold them at Bohemia.
7
My Georgy shall be hanged in silken ropes,
Such as ne’er hanged any,
For he was one of the British blued,
And courted a virtuous lady.
8
Who for him hath wept both night and day,
And nothing can drive her sorrows away,
For she hoped to have seen the happy day,
To have been blessed once more with her Georgy.
9
I wish I was on yonder hill,
Where times I have been many,
With a sword and pistol in my hand,
I’d fight for the life of my Georgy.
10
Take me home and let me mourn,
And I will mourn so rarely,
I’ll mourn a twelvemonth and a day,
All for the life of my Georgy.
The above version printed by Jennings of London c1809-1815, was also printed later in the century by Such of London. The last stanza is no doubt influenced by a stanza in Child 78, ‘The Unquiet Grave’.
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The Life of Georgey
1
As I was walking over London bridge,
It was one morning early,
There I espied a gay lady,
Lamenting for her Georgey.
2
Come fetch me some little boy,
That can run an errand swiftly,
That can go ten miles in one hour,
With a little for a lady. (letter)
3
Come saddle me my milk white steed,
Come saddle it so neatly,
That I may go down unto Newcastle gaol,
Begging for the life of Georgey.
4
But when she came unto Newcastle gaol,
She bowed her head so slowly,
Three times on her bended knees did fall,
Saying spare me the life of Georgey
5
The Judge looked over his left shoulder,
And he seemed very hard hearted,
He said, my dear you must begone,
For there is no pardon granted.
6
It is no murder Georgey’s done,
Nor has he killed any,
But he stole sixteen of the king’s best steeds,
And he sold them in Bohemia.
7
It’s six pretty babies I have got,
And the seventh lies in my body,
I’d freely part with them every one,
If you’d spare me the life of Georgey.
8
The Judge looked over his left shoulder,
And he seemed very sorry,
He said, my dear you are too late,
Georgey’s condemn’d already.
9
My George shall be hung in chains of gold,
Of such there are not many,
Because he’s become of noble breed,
And was lov’d by a virtuous lady.
10
I wish I was on yonder hill,
Where times I have been many,
With sword and pistol by my side,
I’d fight for the life of Georgey.
The above version printed by B Walker of Bradford is almost identical to those printed by Ward of Ledbury and Joseph Smyth of Belfast, all c1840.
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Bronson 12. [Geordie]
Sharp MSS., 980/. Also in Sharp, JFSS, IV. No. 17 (1913).
p. 333(3). Sung by William Mantle (72), Bridgewater,
August 9, 1906,
p D/E
As I was walking over London Bridge
There I spicd so many people
With the swords and pistols all in their hands
For to fight for the life of Georgy.
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Georgie- John Woodrich; Baring Gould collection
K3 p202 No514
As I rode over London Bridge
It was on a morning early
I spied there a maiden fair
All in the dew so pearly
O Georgie never stole ox or cow
Of calves he ne’er stole any
But six kings deer he stole I know
And sold them in Broad Hembury
Come saddle me my milk white steed
Come saddle it so easy
To my good lord judge I’ll ride with speed
To beg the life of Georgie
And when she came into the hall
There were lords and ladies many
And she did fall on knee and call
‘Spare me the life of Georgie
The judge looked over his left shoulder
Lady I pray be easy
He has confessed, he shall not be pressed
But the Lord ha’ mercy on Georgie
He shall be hanged in a chain of gold
Such as you ne’er saw other
For it shall be told, he was a gentleman bold
And was loved by a virtuous lady
Now I for him shall weep and pray
And I for him will sorrow
And may God speed on my dying day
My Georgie and me good morrow
Were I at the top of Prockter’s hill
Where time I have been many
With pistol cocked or good stout bill (pole?)
I’d fight for the life of Georgie
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From the notes to the Penguin Book (1959):
"This ballad...is well-known both in England and Scotland. The Scottish sets differ considerably from the English ones, for in them the hero is not a thief but a nobleman, thought by some scholars to be George Gordon, Earl of Huntly, who suffered royal displeasure when he showed clemency towards a Highland robber in 1554. In the English versions, which may be re-makes of the Scottish, the main character is always an outlaw. An old black-letter ballad names him as George Stoole of Northumberland, who was executed in 1610; but even in its "robber" form (if that is the more recent) the song probably pre-dates the 17th. century. Mr. Neville's tune is related to the well-known air of Searching for Lambs. Geordie has been found in oral tradition also in Sussex (FSJ vol.I [issue 4] p.164 and vol.II [issue 8] p.208), Cambridgeshire (FSJ vol.II [issue 6?] pp.47-9), Somerset (FSJ vol.II [issue 6] pp.27-8 and vol.IV [issue 17] p.333), Norfolk (FSJ vol.IV [issue 15] pp.89-90), Suffolk, Surrey and Dorset (FSJ vol.IV [issue 17] pp.332-3) and Yorkshire (Traditional Tunes, Frank Kidson, 1891)." -R.V.W./A.L.L.
This version was collected by Cecil Sharp from Charles Neville of East Coker in Somerset, in 1908, and was first published in the Folk Song Journal, vol.IV [issue 17] p.333
GEORDIE
Sung by Charles Neville, East Coker, Som. (C.J.S. 1908)
As I came over London Bridge
One misty morning early,
I overheard a fair pretty maid
Lamenting for her Geordie.
'Come bridle me my milk-white horse,
Come bridle me my pony,
That I may ride to London's court,
To plead for the life of Geordie.'
And when she entered in the hall,
There was lords and ladies plenty.
Down on her bended knee she fall,
To plead for the life of Geordie.
'Oh, Geordie stole no cow nor calf,
Nor sheep he never stole any,
But he stole sixteen of the king's wild deer,
And sold them in Bohenny.
'Oh, two brave children I've had by him,
And the third lies in my bosom;
And if you would spare my Geordie's life,
I'd freely part from them every one.'
The judge looked over his left shoulder,
And said: 'I'm sorry for thee.
My pretty fair maid, you come too late,
For he's condemned already.'
'Let Geordie hang in golden chains,
Such chains as never was any,
Because he came of the royal blood,
And courted a virtuous lady.
'I wish I was in yonder grove,
Where times I have been many,
With my broad sword and pistol too,
I'd fight for the life of Geordie.'
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a Hampshire version. collected by Alice Gillington from New Forest gypsies which she called "The Warminster Song" for some reason. See http://www.cmarge.demon.co.uk/gwilym/Stepaway.html. In this version, Geordie becomes Georgie.
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Danish version made by Gasolin called "Langebro(the name of a danish bridge)".... It is very popular in Denmark and is seen as one of the band biggest hits.
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Geordie- Roxburghe collection
The Roxburghe ballads, Volume 7, Part 1
By Joseph Woodfall Ebsworth, Frederick James Furnivall, John Ker Roxburghe (Duke of), Robert Harley Oxford (Earl of), British Museum
George of Oxford.
"Some did say he would escape, some at his fall did glory;
But these were clownes and fickle friends, and none that loved Georgie.
"Might friends have satisfide the Law, then Georgia would find many;
Yet bravely did he plead for life, if mercy might be any. Heigh ho, etc.
"But when this doughty Carle was cast, he was full sad and sorry;
Yet boldly did he take his death, so patiently dyde Georgie."
—A Lamentable Bitty upon George Stoole.
WHETHER we account as Trade or Sport the pranks played professionally by Mary Carleton, alias Stedman, alias "The German Princess," born Moders, daughter of a Canterburian choirister and 'fiddler,' she had an unchallenged right to be represented in this "Group of Ballads," under either qualification. As a companion picture, literally a pendant, she ought to find a male Gallant, worthy by life and death to hang beside her. Such a one surely is "George of Oxford" (a song not hitherto reprinted), here given. Wordsworth declared concerning Robin Hood that "Scotland has a thief as good: she has, she has the bold Rob Roy," and perhaps this praise stimulated Walter Scott to make the brave Gregarach the hero of his own noble romance. But Scotland shows a fantastic and inexplicable modesty, a disparagement of her own resources and native manufacture, insomuch that she actually appropriates to herself several of our English freebooters ; not to mention the lifting and resetting of such portable property as she can lay her hands on, in the way of ballads, cattle, spleuchan, bag of guineas, or authorship of popular poems: all being grist that goes to her mill, which has a big dam to it. And she has even tried to naturalize 'Georgy' as ' Geordie.' Burns contributed the version printed in Johnson's Scots Musical Museum, 1792 (given complete on our p. 72): the most authentic of the Scotch 'Geordie' ballads. George R. Kinloch in his Ancient Scottish Ballads, 1827, declared that he was "inclined to assign the sixteenth century as the date of this production," viz.
'' There was a battle in the North, and Nobles there was many,
And they hae kill'd Sir Charlie Hag, and they laid the wyte [blame] on Geordie."
Kinloch thought that it " originated in the factions of the Huntley family, during the reign of Queen Mary; and the following passage in Buchanan [History of Scotland'] relates to a transaction which probably gave rise to the ballad." But, credat Judaus Apella! we resemble Master Dumbleton who required better security than the endorsement of Bardolph to Falstaff's bond. We like not the security of Buchan or of Buchanan. We cannot accept Kinloch's garbled version in print (on his pp. 192-194), with its burden, "My Geordie, 0, my Geordie 0, Oh, the love I bear to Geordie; The very stars in the firmament [!!!], bear tokens I We Geordie!" Kinloch's interleaved copy held this MS. Note :—" Mr. Motherwell informs me that he has met with two copies of this ballad. One begins, 'Geordie Luekly is my name, and mony a ane does ken me, O, Many an ill deed I hae done, but death has now o'ertane me, O.'
[Better to have styled him Geordie Unlucky.] The other begins,
'The weather it is clear, and the wind blaws schill,
And yonder a boy rins bonnie O,
And he s awa' to the gates o' Hye,
Wi' a letter to Geordie's lady, 0.'"
Kinloch's own MS., seen by us, differs much from his printed version: We read, third line, " And they were brought before the King," transformed in print to "And monie ane got broken heads"!!! His fifth stanza of print was in MS. "O up bespoke a Baron bold, ' Such lovers true should not parted be,' " but this is ill turned into type as " Then up bespak a baron bold, And O but he spak bonnie!" It may have been, possibly, that the ballad, or a ballad, referred to George Gordon, Earl of Huntley, who, having been commissioned to apprehend a notorious Reiver, 'John Muderach,' had returned without having fulfilled his charge, and was imprisoned as a punishment; some desiring his banishment to France, others trying to compass his death.
In Peter Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, i. 133 (see our p. 73) he furnishes a version called "Gight's Lady," beginning,
First I was Lady o' Black Riggs, and then into Kincragie,
Now I am the Lady o' Gight, and my love he's ca'd Geordie.
[Forty-One mortal stanzas in all: not immortal.]
Joseph Bitson in his Northumberland Garland, Newcastle, 1793' (from Roxburghe Coll., 1.186, or a duplicate), gave "A lamentable new Ditty, made on the death of a worthy Gentleman, named George Stoole, dwelling sometime on Gate-side Moore, and sometime at Newcastle in Northumberland; with his penitent end." 'To a delicate Scottish tune.' Date guessed circa 1610-12. There is certainly a connection between this sorry 'Ditty' (reprinted in Roxburghe Ballads, i. 576) and our "George of Oxford." They probably refer to the same man, by name Skelton, alias Stowell; the references to Newcastle and Lady Gray's intercession for him become intelligible; London-Bridge and Oxford remain dubious localizations. It is here:
Come, you lusty Northerne lads, that are so blith and bonny,
Prepare your hearts to be full sad, to heare the end of George;
Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, my bonny Love; Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho, my Honny!
Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, my owne deare Love, and God be with my Georgie.
When Georgie to his Triall came, a thousand hearts were sorry,
A thousand Lasses wept full sore, and all for love of Georgy.
Heigh-ho, etc.
[Three stanzas intervene: given on p. 67.]
As Georgie went up to the Gate, he tooke his leave of many;
He tooke his leave of his Lard's wife, whom he lov'd best of any. [Laird's.
With thousand sighs, and heavy lookes, away from thence he parted,
Where he so often blith had beene, though now so heavy hearted.
He writ a letter with his owne hand, be thought he writ it bravely;
He sent it to New-Castle Towne, to his beloved Lady.
George Stoole of Gateskie-Moor, 1612. 69
Wherein he did at large bewaile the occasion of his folly;
Bequeathing life unto the Law, his soule to Heaven holy.
"[My], Lady, leave to weepe for me, let nnt my ending grieve ye: [' Why.'
Prove constant to the [yen] you love, for I cannot releeve yee. [' ney.'
"Out upon thee, Wilhrington, and fie upon thee, Phoenix! [Fenwick.
Thou hast put down the doughty one that stole the sheep from Anix.*
"And fie on all such cruell carles, whose crueltie's so fickle,
To cast away a Gentle man in hatred for so little.
"I would I were on yonder hill, where I have beene full merry;
My sword and buckler by my side, to fight till I be weary. Heigh ho, etc.
"They well should know that tooke me first, tho' hopes be now forsaken,
Had I but freedome, armes, and health, l'de dye ere I'de be taken.
"But Law condemns me to my grave, they have me in their power;
There's none but Christ that can me save, at this my dying houre."
He call'd his dearest love to him, when as his heart was sorry,
And speaking thus with manly heart, "Deare sweeting, pray for Georgie!"
He gave to her a piece of gold, and bade her giv't her ba[i]rnes, [ = babes.
And oft he kist her rosie lips, and laid him into her armes.
And coming to the place of death, he never changed colour,
'J he more they thought he would look pale, the more his veines were fuller.
And with a cheereful countenance (being at that time entreated For to confesse his former life), these words he straight repeated: '' I never stole no Oxe nor Cow, nor never murdered any: But fifty Horse I did receive of a Merchant's man of Gory. [i.e. Gowrie. '' For which I am condemn'd to dye, though guiltlesse I stand dying, Deare gracious God, my soul receive, for now my life is flying." Heigh-ho, etc. The Man of death a part did act, which grieves mee tell the story; God comfort all [who] are comfortlesse, and di[e]d so well as Georgie, Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, my bonny love, Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, my bonny;
Meigh-ho, heigh-ho, mine own true love, Sweet Christ receive my Georgie.
Finis.
* Withrington (cf. vi. 742, 'Chevy Chase') must be Sir Henry, or Roger W.; 'Phoenlx' is Sir John Fenwick, who was favoured by Lord William ' Howard of the Marches.' Ney is merely a misprint for yen = one. Anix is Alnwick. Robert Motherwell erred in declaring the George Stoole ballad "evidently imitated from the Scottish song." Ft was antecedent. He knew not our ' George of Oxford.'
The "Merchant's-man of Gowry" becomes in our Roxburghe Ballad, p. 72, some horse-purchaser for Bohemia (not improbably the Palsgrave Frederick, husband of James I.'s daughter, the admired Princess Elizabeth), which helps to mark the early date, circu 1612 (they were affianced 27 December, 1612, and married on 14 Feb., 161f). The boast about having "never stolen horse or mare in my life" resembles George Stoole's "I never stole no Oxe," etc. (Compare our vol. vi. p. 596, on Lady Gray, and Hughie Graham.) Geordie by dances on the green, with fair ladies whom he had marked down for plunder, anticipated Claude Duval (Bagford Ballads, p. 13, 1876) ; but Duval gave back their jewels to each lovely partner of his Coranto. In all such matters la Grande Nation sets an example of truer chivalry than la nation des Bouliquiers.
AS I went over London-Bridge, all in a misty morning,
There did I see one weep and mourn, lamenting for her Georgy:
"Sis time it is past; His life it will not last,
Alack, and alas! there is no Remedy!
Which makes the heart within me ready to hurst in three, To think on the death of poor Georgy." "George of Oxford is my name, and few there's but have known me, Many a mad prank have I play'd, but now they've overthrown me. My time it is past [my life it will not last]," etc.
Oh! then bespake the Lady Gray, "I'le haste me in the morning, And to the Judge I'le make my way, to save the life of Georgy. Sis time it is past! Sis life else it may cost; Alack, and alas! is there no Remedy? It makes the heart within me ready to burst in three, To think on the death of poor Georgy. - 33
George of Oxford. 71
"Go, saddle me my milk-white Steed, go saddle me my bonny, That I may to New-Castle spied, to save the life of Georgy. His time it is past: [His life it will not last]," etc.
But when she came the Judge before, full low her knee she bended, For Georges life she did implore, that she might be befriended. "His time may be past; his life else it may cost, Alack, and alas! is there no Remedy f It makes the heart within me ready to burst in three, To think on the death of poor Georgy!" "Oh rise, oh rise, fair Lady Gray, your suit cannot be granted; Content your self, as well you may, for Georgy must be hanged. His time it is past, [His life it cannot last]," etc.
She wept, she wail'd, she [w]rung her hands, and ceased not her
mourning; icf- vi- 596
She offer'd Gold, she offer'd Lands, to save the life of Georgy. "His time it is past! [his life it cannot last]," etc. 77
©eorjje's Confession.
Have travell'd through the Land, and met with many a man, Sir, But Knight or Lord I bid him stand; he durst not make an answer. But my thread it is spun, My glass is almost run,
Alack and alas! there is no remedy! Which makes my heart within me ready to burst in three, To die like a Dog!" (says poor Georgy). 88
"The Brittain bold that durst deny his money for to tender, Though he were stout as valiant Guy, I forced him to surrender. But now my thread is spun [My glass is almost run], etc.
"But when the money I had got, and made him cry peccavi, To bear his charge, and pay his shot, a Mark or Noble gave I. But my thread it is spun [My glass is almost run], etc.
"The Ladies when they had me seen, would ne'r have been affrighted, To take a dance upon the Green with Georgy they delighted. But now my thread is spun [My glass is almost run], etc.
"When I had ended this our wake, and fairly them bespoken,
Their rings and Jewells would I take to keep them for a Token.
But now my thread is spun [My glass is almost run]," etc.
"The Hue and Cry " for George is set, a proper handsome fellow, With Diamond-eyes as black as jet, and Locks like Gold so yellow. His time it is past [his life it cannot last]" etc.
Long it was, with all their art, e're they could apprehend him, But at the last his valiant heart no longer could defend him. His time it was past [his life it could not last], etc. 72 'Georgy ' of Oxford and Burns's ' Geordle ' of Scotland.
"I ne'r stole Horse nor Mare in my life, nor Cloven-foot or any, But once, Sir, of the King's white steeds, and I sold them to Bohemia." Sis time it was past [_his life it could not lasf], etc. \_seep. 69.
Oeorgy he went up the hill, and after [him] followed many; Georgy was hanged in silken string, the like was never any. Mis time it was past, his life will not last, Alack, and alas! there is no remedy, [ Which makes the heart within me ready to hurst in three, To think on the death of poor Georgy]. 176
Printed for P. Brooksby, in West-Smithfield.
[In Black-letter, with the two woodcuts, as on p. 70. Issued by Philip Brooksby, between 1671 and 1692; the Pepys-exemplar is marked Brooksby "at the sign of the Golden Ball, near the Bear-Tavern in Pye-corner." Probably this was reprinted from an earlier and lost broadside, temp. Jacobi I., circa 1612.]
*#* Here follows the earliest printed Scotch version of " Geordie," and the best. The Country Lass (Soxb. Bds., i. 165) tune is now used for Sally in our Alley.
QUeoxtsit.
(The Scots Musical Museum version, iv. 357, 1792.) Tune of, The Country Lass [=' Altho' I be a Country Lass ']. THERE was a battle in the North, and nobles there we[re] many, And they hae kill'd Sir Charlie Hay, and they laid the wyte on Geordie. O, he has written a lang letter, he sent it to his Lady; "Ye maun cum up to Enbrugh town, to see what word's o' Geordie." [Edinbro'.
When first she look'd the letter op, she was baith red and rosy;
But she had na read a word but twa, till she wallow't like a Lily. [Faded.
"Gar get to me my gude grey steed, my menzie a' gae wi' me; [followers.
For I shall neither eat nor drink, till Enbrugh town shall see me."
And she has mounted her gude grey steed, her menzies a' gaed wi' her; And she did neither eat nor drink, till Enbrugh town did see her. And first appear'd the fatal Block, and syne the Aix to head him; And Geordie cumin down the stair, and bands o' air n upon him. But tho' he was chain'd in fetters Strang, o' air n and steel sae heavy, There was na ane in a' the Court, sae braw a man' as Geordie. O she's down on her bended knee, I wat she's pale and weary; ,
'' 0 pardon, pardon, noble king, and gie me back my Dearie!
"I hae borne seven sons to my Geordie dear, the seventh ne'er saw his daddie; O pardon, pardon, noble King! Pity a waeful Lady!"
"Gar bid the Headin'-man mak' haste," our King reply'd, fu' lordly. "O noble King, tak a' that's mine, but gie me back my Geordie!" The Gordons cam, and the Gordons ran, and they were stark and steady; And ae the word amang them a' was, " Gordons, keep you ready!" An aged Lord at the King's right hand, says, "Noble King, but hear me; Gar her tell down five thousand pound, and gie her back her Dearie." [Scott. George Gordon of Gight, and Big net's Lady. 73
Some gae her marks, some gae her crowns, some gae her dollars many; And she's tell'd down five thousand pound, and she's gotten again her Dearie. She hlinkit hlythe in her Geordie's face, says, " Dear I've bought thee, Geordie; But there sud been bluidy bouks on the green, or I had tint my laddie." He claspit her by the middle sma', and he kist her lips sae rosy; [o. interpolated? "The fairest flower 0' woman-kind, is my sweet bonnie Lady!"
The music of Geordie is given in an Appendix to Kinloch's Ancient Scottish Ballads, 1827. W. E. Aytoun thought the song bore no " mark of having been altered by [Burns], with the exception, perhaps, of the concluding stanza" (Ballads of Scotland, ii. 48, 1857). Bouks=corpses; tint =lost; pound Scots=shilling.
Peter Bnchan (Anc. lids, and Songs of the North of Scotland, 1828; Reprint 1875, i. 299) refuses to endorse Allan Cunningham's acceptance of Kinloch's explanation, as to George Gordon, Earl of Huntley, his offence, neglect to apprehend Muderach, chief of the clan or family of the McBanalds (Buchanan's Hist. Scotland, 1799, vol. ii. p. 222). Buchan declares, "the genuine old ballad was composed upon quite another incident, and recounts an affair which actually took place in the reign or rather minority of King James VI. [of Scotland=James I. of England]. Sir George Gordon of Gight [an ancestor of Lord Byron], had become too intimate with the Laird of Bignet's lady, for which the former was imprisoned, and likely to lose his life; but for the timely interference of Lady Anne, his lawful spouse, who came to Edinburgh to plead his cause, which she did with success,—gained his life, and was rewarded with the loss of her own, by the hand of her ungrateful husband." Of the utter rubbish foisted on Buchan, let the conclusion suffice in proof. Gight's lady had been covetted by Lord Montague, but she thus in dulcet tones rebukes his boast of "I wish that Gight had wanted the head, I might enjoy'd his lady : "—
Out it speaks the lady hersell, "Te need ne'er wish my body; 0 ill befa' pour wizen'd snout! Would ye compare wi Geordie?" She mounts her steed, sitting behind Geordie, and proclaims her love for him, and avouches all she has done for him, but he boasts that he loves his paramour more than he loves his wife, Lady Anne:
He turn'd him right and round about, and high, high looked Geordie; '' A finger o' Bignet's lady's hand is worth a' your fair body.
"My lands may a' be masterless, my babes may want their mother; But I've made a vow, will keep it true, I'll be bound by no other."
These words they caus'd a sharp dispute, and proud and fierce grew Geordie! A sharp dagger he pulled out, and pierc'd the heart o's lady. The lady's dead, and Gight he's fled, and left his lands behind him; Altho' they searched south and north, there were nane there cou'd find him. Now a' that liv'd into Black- Riggs, and likewise in Kincraigie, For seven years were clad in black, to mourn for Gight's own lady. No, no, no. We refuse to accept this George Gordon the wife-slayer (even if, following another tradition, he drowned her) as the veritable "Geordie" of Burns's contribution to Johnson's Museum, or the " Georgy" of our ballad and of Oxford. George Stoole, of Newcastle, 1612, is the preferable representative; "and there the matter remains ":
J'n'en dis pas davantage, Mironton, Mironton, Mironlaine, J'n'en dis pas duvanlage, car en viola z-asscz.
[Roxburghe Collection, III. 230; Bagford. II. 114; Pepys, III. 81; TJawlinson, 126; Jersey, I. 229; Douce, II. 258; Wood's, 401, fol. 97; and 402, 55.]
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Banstead Downs- Child #209: “Geordie”
“Banstead Downs” is a southern England version of “Geordie” collected by Lucy Broadwood from Sussex source singer Henry Burstow.
As I rode over Banstead Downs,
One mid-May morning early,
There I espied a pretty fair maid,
Lamenting for her Georgie.
Saying, “Georgie never stood
on the King’s highway,
He never robbèd money,
But he stole fifteen of the King’s fat deer,
And sent them to Lord Navey.”
“Oh, come and saddle my milk-white steed,
And bridle it all ready,
That I may go to my good Lord Judge
And ask for the life of my Georgie.”
And when she came to the good Lord Judge,
She fell down upon her knees already,
Saying, “My good Lord Judge, come pity me,
Grant me the life of my Georgie.”
The judge he looked over his left shoulder,
He seemed as he was very sorry:
“My pretty fair maid, you are come too late,
For he is condemned already.
“He will be hung in a silken cord
Where there has not been many,
For he came of royal blood
And courted a virtuous lady.”
“I wish I was on yonder hill,
Where times I have been many!
With a sword and a buckler by my side
I would fight for the life of my Georgie.”