Johnny Scot- Rev. soldier (MA) pre1823 Flanders A
[From Flanders, Ancient Ballads II, 1963. Notes by Coffin follow. The original spelling has been kept.
R. Matteson 2015]
Johnny Scot
(Child 99)
A document by the Rev. Andrew Hall, Interesting Roman Antiquities, etc., 1823, 216 (quoted by Child, II, 378), tells a story of the court of Charles II in which one James Macgill, a Scot, fought a professional Italian gladiator who leaped over him as if to "swallow him" and who was "spitted" in mid-air. This may be the incident behind the romantic story of "Johnny Scot," with its "Italiant man" whom Johnny fights and defeats. Phillips Barry, British Ballads from Maine, 221-224, has analyzed the American versions of the song and comes to the conclusion there are two plot types-one in which Johnny, a servant in the English court, flees to Scotland after beguiling the King's daughter; and one in which he goes hunting in the English woods, where he seduces a noble lady. Barry's New Brunswick finds and the three Flanders texts are of the second Type (Child C, D, G, L) and show the minor variations found in those four related versions. A and B open with the woods scene. C is abbreviated and involves a letter from the seduced girl rather than from the king. A, with its mention of a "battle man," may be like Child Q and R in lacking the Italian champion, although it is possible the word "Italian" could be varied to "battle" over the years. All three Flanders texts lack the gymnastics performed by the Italian in many texts.
The song is rare in America, being found only in scattered areas- particularly in New England, the Maritimes, and the Southeastern hills. See Coffin, 99-100 (American), and Greig and Keith, 74-75 (Scottish), for bibliographical material and discussion. Dean-smith does not list the song, though Child had twenty versions.
A. [Johnny Scot] Copied, Literatim et punctatim from The Green Mountain Songster, 47, in the possession of Harold Rugg at the Baker Memorial Library in Hanover, New Hampshire. This songster was compiled by an old Revolutionary soldier and published in the town of Sandgate, Vermont in 1823. H. H. F., Collector, 1930.
Young Johny Scott's a hunting gone,
Into the woods so wild;
The fairest lady in all England,
By Johny Scott's with child.
The news into the kitchen's gone,
The news into the hall,
The news into king Edwards gone,
And that's the worst of all.
King Edward he a letter wrote,
And seal'd it with his hand,
And sent away for Johny Scott,
As fast as he could send.
When Johny Scott the letter read,
The tears did flow like sea,
I must unto old England go,
King Edward has sent for me.
Oh, then spoke up his father then,
An aged man was he;
If you unto old England go,
You never'll return to me.
Oh, then spoke up a Scotish knight,
Sat close by Johny's knee,
Three hundred and ten of my life-guard men,
Shall bear his company.
Young Johny on his saddle sat,
Most beautiful and bold,
The hair spread over young Johny's shoulders,
Like the links of gold.
Young Johny call'd his merry men all,
He dress'd them all in white,
And every city that he rode through,
They took him to be some knight.
The last town that he rode into,
He rode it round about,
And there he spi'd his own true love
At a window looking out.
Come down, come down, young Johny said,
And take a walk with me?
I cannot come down my dear, she said,
King Edward has bolted me.
The doors they are all locked fast,
The windows round about,
My feet they are in fetters strong,
And how shall I get out.
Young Johny rode to king Edward's bower,
He knock'd so loud at the ring,
There was none so ready as king Edward himself
To arise and let him in.
Oh, is this the duke of Cumberland,
Or is it George our king,
Or is it my bastard son,
From Flanders new come in.
'Tis not the duke of Cumberland,
Nor is it James your king,
But it's a young Scotish knight
And Johny Scott's by name.
If that your name be Johny Scott,
As I suppose it be,
The fairest lady in all my lands,
Does go with child by thee.
Oh call her down, Young Johny said,
To talk a while with me,
I'll make it heir of all my lands,
And her my fair lady.
Oh no, oh no, king Edward cri'd,
No, no, that ne'er shall be,
Before to-morrow by eight o'clock
I'll hang you on a tree.
Oh, then spoke up young Johny's men,
With voices loud and high,
Before we'll see our Captain slain,
We'll fight until we die.
They pick'd him out a battle man,
A very tall man was he,
Betwixt his eye brows measur'd a span,
Betwixt his elbows, three.
The king came down with his merry men all,
Came tripping over the plain,
The queen came down with her merry maids all,
To see young Johny slain.
Young Johny being a nimble man,
A nimble man was he,
Then with the point of his broad sword,
His battle man ended he.
Young Johny with his sword in his hand,
Came tripping over the plain;
Is there any more of your English dogs
That you would fain have slain.
Oh, no! oh, no! king Edward cri'd,
I grant your pardon free;
A priest! a priest! young Johny cri'd,
To marry my bride and. me.
He clapp'd his horn unto his mouth,
And blew both loud and shrill,
The honour's gone back to fair Scotland,
In spite of England's will.