The Child of Ell- Percy 1765- Child F
[From: Percy Folio, acquired circa 1753, a manuscript of ballads from a source in Northumberland.
Percy in his Reliques of Ancient English Poetry 1765 says that, "Child was a title sometimes given to a knight." Percy took the eleven stanzas (Child F) from his folio and reworked the ballad into fifty stanzas (see below). Percy's version was learned from a chapbook by Bell Robertson who recited the text to Grieg about 1909.
Here's more info from Sophus Bugge- 1899: There seems to be some connection between the name of the hero of the ballad and that of the hero of the lay. In the corresponding English ballad in the Percy MS. (Child, No. 7 F), the hero is called 'the Child of Ell (Elle).' Hillebrand (as the hero is sometimes called in Denmark) and Hillemo (the name given him in Sweden) seem to be only expanded forms of a name corresponding to Ell. (5) The name Earl Brand in Northumberland is evidently a variant of Hillebrand. (6) The form Ell or Helle appears, thus, to lie at the bottom of these variations; and Grundtvig was, therefore, justified in saying: 'Whoever feels dispared may think of Helgi (Hundingsbani) [when he reads of the Child of Elle].'
R. Matteson 2011, 2018]
The Child of Ell- Child Version F- 1765
Percy MS., p. 57; ed. Hales and Furnivall, i, 133.
1 . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . .
Sayes 'Christ thee saue, good Child of Ell!
Christ saue thee and thy steede!
2 'My father sayes he will [eat] noe meate,
Nor his drinke shall doe him noe good.
Till he haue slaine the Child of Ell,
And haue seene his harts blood.'
3 'I wold I were in my sadle sett,
And a mile out of the towne;
I did not care for your father
And all his merry men!
4 'I wold I were in my sadle sett,
And a little space him froe;
I did not care for your father
And all that long him to!
5 He leaned ore his saddle bow
To kisse this lady good;
The teares that went them two betweene
Were blend water and blood.
6 He sett himselfe on one good steed,
This lady on a palfray,
And sett his litle horne to his month,
And roundlie he rode away.
7 He had not ridden past a mile,
A mile out of the towne,
. . . . .
. . . . .
8 Her father was readye with her seuen brether,
He said, 'Sett thou my daughter downe!
For ill beseemes thee, thou false churles sonne,
To carry her forth of this towne!'
9 'But lowd thou lyest, Sir Iohn the knight,
Thou now doest lye of me;
A knight me gott, and a lady me bore;
Soe neuer did none by thee.
10 'But light now done, my lady gay,
Light downe and hold my horsse,
Whilest I and your father and your brether
Doe play vs at this crosse.
11 'But light now downe, my owne trew loue,
And meeklye hold my steede,
Whilest your father [and your seuen brether] bold
. . . . .
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Hales and Furnivall, i, 133.
Bishop Percy's Folio Manuscript: Ballads and Romances, Volume 1
By Thomas Percy
a fragment of the Ballad of the of Child of Ell
Tins is a fragment of one of the moat popular stories of Northern Europe. "More than thirty versions have been published in the Northern languages," says Prof. Child. "Of the corresponding Danish ballad, 'Eibolt og Guldborg,' Gruntvig has collected more than twenty versions, some of them ancient, many obtained from recitation; and eight of the kindred ' Hildebrond og Hilde.' There have also been printed of the latter three versions in Swedish, and of the former three in Icelandic, two in Norse, and seven in Swedish. ('Danmarks Samle Folkeviser,' ii. 308-403, 674-81.)"
Compare "Erlinton " and "The Douglas Tragedy" (of which Scott mentions a "local habitation") in the "Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border," "The brave Earl Brand and the King of England's daughter" in Mr. Bell's "Ballads and Songs of the English Peasantry," "Robin Hood and the Tanner's Daughter" in Gutch's " Lytell Geste."
The present fragment of a version may be fairly said to be now printed for the first time, as in the "Reliques " it is buried in a heap of " polished" verses composed by Percy. That worthy prelate, touched by the beauty of it—he had a soul—was unhappily moved to try his hand at its completion. A waxdoll-maker might as well try to restore Milo's Venus. There are 39 lines here. There are 200 in the thing called the "Child of Elle" in the "Reliques." But in those 200 lines all the 39 originals do not appear. Now and then one appears, always (with
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1 Percy's title.— F. The Beauty of these few Stanzas tempted me to attempt the long Ballad of "The Child of Elle," which I have printed in my Reliques, &c., Vol. I.—P.
_____________________
one exception) a little altered to fit it for the strange bed-fellows with which the polishing process has made it acquainted, its good manners corrupted, so to speak, by evil communications. On the whole, the union of the genuine and the false—of the old ballad with Percy's tawdry feebleness — makes about as objectionable a mesalliance as that in the story itself is in the eyes of the father. The crowning efforts of the polishing process are this version of vv. 15-18:
And thrice ho clasped her to his breste,
And kist her tenderlie;
The teares that fell from her fair eyes
Eanne like the fountayno free.
and this of vv. 33-39:
But light nowe dowue, my ladye fairo,
Light downe, and hold my steed,
While I and this discourteous knighte
Doe trye this arduous deede.
But light now downe, my dear ladye,
Light downe and hold my horse;
While I and this discourteous knight
Doe trye our valour's force.
So fared our poor fragment in the hands of its friends a hundred years ago.
___________
Saves " Christ thee sane, good child of Ell!
2 christ saue thee & thy steede!
"my father sayes he will noe Meate,
nor his drinke shall doe him noe good,
till he haue slaine the child of Ell
6 & haue scene his harts blood."
"I wold I were in my sadle sett,
& a Mile out of the towne,
I did not care for your father
10 & all his merrymen!
"I wold I were in my sadle sett,
& a little space Mm froe,
I did not care for your father
14 & all that long him to!"
he leaned ore his saddle bow
to kisse this Lady good;
the teares that went them 2 betweene
18 were blend[ed] water & blood.
he sett himselfe on one good steed,
this lady of one palfray,
& sett his litle horne to his month,
22 & ronndlie he rode away.
he had not ridden past a mile,
a mile out of the towne,
her father was readye with her 7 brether,
26 he said, "sett thon my daughter downe!
for it ill beseemes thee, thou false churles sonne,
to carry her forth of this towne!"
The child "but lowd thou lyest, Sir Iohn the Knight!
30 thou now doest Lye of me;
a knight me gott, & a lady me bore;
soe neuer did none by thee.
"but light now downe, my lady gay,
34 light downe & hold my horsse,
whilest I & your father & your brether
doe play vs at this crosse;
"but light now downe, my owne trew louc,
38 & meeklye hold my stocdo,
whilest your father [& your brother] bold"
[half a page missing.]
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The Story of the Poem, [rewrite of the fragment above by Percy, 1765]
X. THE CHILD OF ELLE
—— is given from a fragment in the Editor's folio MS: which tho- extremely defective and mutilated, appeared to show so much merit, that it excited a strong desire to attempt a completion of the story. The Reader will easily discover the supplemental stanzas by their inferiority, and at the same time be inclined to pardon it, when he considers how difficult it must be to imitate the affecting simplicity and artless beauties of the original.
Child was a title sometimes given to a knight. See Clefs,
ON yonder hill a castle standes,
With wailes and towres bedight,
And yonder lives the Child of Elle,
A young and comely knighte.
The Child of Elle to his garden wente,
And stood at his garden pale,
Whan, lo! he beheld fair Emelines page
Come trippings downe the dale.
The Childe of Elle he hyed him thence,
Y-wis he stoode not stille,
And soone he mettefaire Emmelines page
Come climbing up the hille.
Nowe Christe thee save, thou little soot-page,
Now Christe thee save and see!
Oh telle me how does thy ladye gaye,
And what may thy tydinges bee?
My lady mee is all woe-begone,
And the teares they falle from her eyne;
And aye mee laments the deadlye seude
Betweene her house and thine.
And here mee sends thee a silken scarse
Bedewde with many a teare,
And biddes thee sometimes thinke on her,
Who loved thee so deare.
And here shee sends thee a ring of golde
The last boone thou mayst have,
And biddes thee weare it for her fake,
Whan she is layde in grave.
For ah! her gentle heart is broke,
And in grave soone must mee bee,
Sith her father hath chose her a new new love,
And forbidde her to thinke of thee.
Her fathir hath brought her a carlish knight,
Sir John of the north countraye,
And within three dayes shee must him wedds,
Or he vowes he will her flay.
Nowe hye thee backe, thou little foot-page,
And greet thy ladye from mee,
And telle her that I her owne true love
Will dye, or sette her free.
Now hye thee backe, thou little foot-page,
And let thy fair ladye know
This night will I bee at her bowre-windbwe,
Betide me weale or woe.
The boye he tripped, the boye he ranne,
He neither stint ne stayd
Untill he came to faire Emmelines bowre,
Whan kneeling downe he fayd,
O ladye, Ive been with thy own true love,
And he greets thee well by mee,
This night will he bee at thy bowre-windows,
And dye or sette thee free.
Nowe daye was gnne, and night was come,
And all were fast asleepe,
All save the ladye Emmeline,
Who sate in her bowre to weepe:
And soone shee heard her true loves voice
Lowe whispering at the walle,
Awake, awake, my deare ladye,
Tis I thy true love call.
Awake, awake, my ladye deare,
Come, mount this faire palfraye:
This ladder of ropes will lette thee downe,
He carrye thee hence awaye.
Nowe nay, nowe nay, thou gentle knight, 65
Now nay, this may not bee;
For aye should I tint my maiden fame,
If alone I should wend with thee.
O ladye, thou with a knighte so true
Mayst fafclye wend alone, 70
To my ladye mother I will thee bringe,
Where marriage shall make us one.
"My father he is a baron bolde,
Of lynage proude and hye;
And what would he saye if his daughter 75
Awaye with a knight should fly?
Ah! well I wot, he never would rest,
Nor his meate should doe him no goode,
Till he had flayne thee, Child of Elle,
And secne thy deare hearts bloode." 80
O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette,
And a little space him fro,
I would not care for thy cruel father,
Nor the worst that he could doe.
O ladye wert thou in thy saddle sette, 85
And once without this walle,
I would not care for thy cruel father,
Nor the worst that might befalle.
Faire Emmelinc sighde, fair Emmeline wept,
And aye her heart was woe: 90
At length he seizde her lilly-white hand,
And downe the ladder hee drewe:
And thrice he claspde her to his breste,
And kist her tenderlie:
The teares that sell from her fair eyes, 95
Ranne like the fountayne free.
Hee mounted himselse on his steede so talle,
And her on a faire palfraye,
And flung his bugle about his necke.
And roundlye they rode awaye. 100
All this beheard her owne damselle,
In her bed whereas shee ley,
Quoth shee, My lord shall knowe of this,
fcioe I shall have golde and see.
Awake, awake, thou baron baide! 105
Awake, my noble dame!
Your daughter is fledde with the Child of Elle,
To doe the decde of shame.
The baron he woke, the baron he rose,
And callde his merrye men all: 110
"And come thou forth, Sir John the knighte,
Thy ladye is carried to thrall."
Fair Emmeline scant had ridden a mile,
A mile forth of the towne,
When she was aware of her fathers men 115
Come galloping over the dowtte:
And foremost came the carlissh knight,
Sir John of the north countraye:
"Nowe stop, nowe stop, thou false traitoure,
Nor carry that ladye awaye. 120
For me is come of hye lynage,
And was of a ladye borne,
And ill it befeems thee a false datries sense
To carrye her hence to scorne."
Nowe loud thou lyest, Sir John the knight, 125
Nowe thou doest lye of mee;
A knight mee gott, and a ladye me bore,
Soe never did none by thee.
But light nowe downe, my ladye faire,
Light downe, and hold my steed, 130
While I and this discourteous knighte
Doe trye this arduous deede.
But light now downe, my deare ladye,
Light downe, and hold my horse;
While I and this discourteous knight 135
'Doe trye our valours force.
Fair Emmeline sighde, fair Emmeline wept,
And aye her heart was woe,
While twixt her love, and the carlish knight
Past many a baleful blowe. 140
The Child of Elle hee sought foe well,
As his weapon he wavde amaine,
That soone he had flaine the carlissh knight,
And layde him upon the plaine.
And nowe the baron, and all his men 145
Full fast approached nye:
Ah! what may ladye Emmeline doe?
Twere nowe no beote to stye.
Her lover he put his home to his mouth,
And blew both loud and shrill, 150
And soone he saw his owne merry men
Come ryding over the hill.
"Nowe hold thy hand, thou bold baron,
I pray thee, hold thy hand,
For ruthlefs rend two gentle hearts, 155
Fast knit in true loves band.
Thy daughter I have dearly lovde
Full long and many a day,
But with such love as holy kirke
Hath freelye sayd wee may. 160
O give c6nsent, shee may be mine,
And blesse a faithfulle paire:
My lands and livings are not small,
My house and lynage faire:
My mother me was an erles daughter, 165
A noble knyght my sire
The baron he frownde, and turnde away
With miclde dole and ire.
Fair Emmeline sighde, faire Emmeline wept,
Aud did all tremblinge stand: 170
At lengthe she sprange upon her knee.
And held his lifted hand.
Pardon, my lorde and father deare,
This faire yong knyght and mee:
Trust me, but for the carlissh knyght, 175
I ne'er had fled from thee.
Oft have you callde your Emmeline
Your darling and your joye;
O let not then your harih resolves
Your Emmeline destroye. 180
The baron he ftroakt his dark-brown cheeke,
And turnde his heade asyde
To whipe awaye the starting teare,
He proudly strive to hyde.
In deepe revolving thought he stoode, 185
And musde a litde space;
Then raisde faire Emmeline from the grounde,
With many a fond embrace.
Here take her, child of Elle, he sayd,
And gave her lillye hand, 190
Here take my deare and only child,
And with her half my land:
Thy father once mine honour wrongde
In dayes of youthful pride;
Do thou the injurye repayre 195
In fondnesse for thy bride.
And as thou love her, and hold her deare,
Heaven prosper thee and thine:
And nowe my blessing wend wi' thee,
My lovelye Emmeline