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Child Waters / Fair Ellen / Fair Margaret

[ Roud 43 ; Child 63 ; G/D 6:1229 ; Ballad Index C063 ; DT CHDWATER ; Mudcat 137810 ; trad.]

Alexander Keith: Last Leaves of Traditional Ballads and Ballad Airs James Kinsley: The Oxford Book of Ballads Sir Walter Scott: Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border

Ewan MacColl sang Fair Ellen in 1964 on his Folkways album The English and Scottish Popular Ballads: Vol. 3—Child Ballads. He noted:

Child refers to this somewhat far-fetched story of devotion and cruelty as “a charming ballad which has, perhaps, no superior in English”. The Professor’s choice of adjective is, to say at the least, curious and one wonders what he would have made of a Hirschfield case-history. Of the eleven texts published by Child, ten are from Scots sources. Learned from Greig and Keith.

Peggy Seeger also sang Child Waters in 1979 in her and Ewan MacColl’s album Blood & Roses Volume 1. She noted:

Professor Child’s comment on this ballad has often been quoted. He calls it “this charming ballad, which has perhaps no superior in English and if notin English perhaps nowhere.” (This, despite the fact that all his ten sets were reported from Scotland.) The ballad has not been reported from England and is hardly known across the Atlantic, the two main American texts having been collected from Arkansas and North Carolina (our text). Even so, this American variant gives the impression that it has not yet been sung in.

The central theme is the same as that in Fair Annie: patient Griselda, the long-suffering, usually pregnant heroine who follows her wayward lover, awaiting thq reawakening of his dulled affections. The trials he visits upon her, as well as a number of other motifs, are shared with several other ballads.

It is interesting that our anti-hero is not named, for in the British texts he is Child Waters, Lord John, Lord Thomas, Sweet Willie, or just plain Willie. The North Carolina set was taken from the singing of Mrs. Rebecca Gordon of Cat’s Head, on Saluda Mountain,Henderson County, North Carolina. The woman who collected it reported another version, apparently too scandalous to print.

Gordeanna McCulloch sang Lord William and Lady Margaret on the 1995 Greentrax album of songs from the Greig-Duncan Collection, Folk Songs of North-East Scotland.

Frankie Armstrong sang Child Waters in 1997 on her Fellside CD Till the Grass O’ergrew the Corn. Brian Pearson noted:

Francis James Child was inclined to think that “this charming ballad … has perhaps no superior in English”. ‘Charming’ is not, one hopes, the word which would spring to the minds of most modern listeners. Bronson referred to it as “too cruel” and it is easy to see why. Yet Child Waters’ apparent callousness perhaps makes Burd Ellen’s eventual triumph all the more potent. Frankie sees the story, not as a literal recipe for successful relationships, but as a battle between two principles or views of the world. Child Waters represents the status quo, the immovable force of established tradition and power; as such, he must marry the ‘right’ worldly mate. Ellen represents the dissolving and recreative power of love, passion and relatedness; she stays close to the ground and to animals and embodies a more instinctual, more subversive consciousness. This reading gives us a classic archetypal ballad where the ‘female’ principle wins out. No wonder Frankie loves it! The text is collated from various versions, and the melody Frankie sings is from that prolific source of good tunes, Alexander Robb of New Deer, Aberdeenshire.

The Gaugers sang Fair Ellen in a recording probably from the late 1960s on their 2000 Sleepytown anthology No More Forever.

Katherine Campbell sang Fair Margaret on her 2004 CD of Scots songs and ballads from Perthshire tradition, The Songs of Amelia and Jane Harris. Peter Shepheard noted:

Fair Margaret is bearing a child by her lover Lord John. As he prepares to leave to return to the highlands she asks to go with him but is warned that “if ye waur in the wide Hielands ye wald be owre far frae hame.” She insists on going with him and “she kilted up her green cleiden” to appear as a pageboy and they journey north together. They ride to the river Clyde across which they swim. They come to the wide Hielands where “every ane spak Erse (i.e. Gaelic) tae anither, but Margaret she spak nane.” When they come to Lord John’s castle they are welcomed in for food, drink and a rest. Lord John asks his mother to make a bed for him with his “futeboy” at his feet. During the night Margaret rises and goes into labour and asks for a bed for “your young son and me”. Lord John replies:

But cheer up your heart noo, Fair Margaret,
For be it as it may;
Your kirken and your fair weddin
Sall baith be on one day.

This beautiful and moving ballad was considered by Child as one of the finest ballads in the language. He gave it the title Child Waters (Child 63) after the earliest publication of the ballad in Percy’s Reliques of Ancient English Poetry (1765). The ballad was widely known in Scotland well into the nineteenth century with versions in Jamieson as Burd Ellen, in Kinloch as Lady Margaret and Buchan as Burd Helen. There are closely related ballads in Scandinavian tradition. Version collected in northeast Scotland are in The Greig-Duncan Folk Song Collection and in Last Leaves of Traditional Ballads and Ballad Airs as Fair Ellen.

Lyrics

Ewan MacColl sings Fair Ellen

“Ye canna go wi me, fair Ellen,
Unless ye do this deed,
Unless ye’ll saddle me my horse,
And’ bridle me my steed,
An’ ilka toon that we gang through,
A leash o’ hounds to lead.”

The knight he rode an’ the lady ran,
Doon by yon water side,
Till they cam’ to a wan water
That a’ men ca’ the Clyde;
But he never turned his horse about
To say, “Lady, will ye ride?”

The firstan step the lady stept,
It struck her to the knee,
An’ sighin said the gay lady,
“This wadin’s nae for me.”

The nextan step the lady stept,
It struck her to the pap;
The babe between her sides twa
Wi’ cold his chin did twack.

“Lie still, lie still, my bonnie bairn,
Ye work your mither woe;
Your father’s high upon horseback,
An’ he rides ower fast awa’.

“Your father’s high upon horseback
An’ we’re low on the grun’;
Your father’s high upon horseback,
Caresna whether we sink or swim.”

But in the midst of that water
There was a stan’in’ steen;
He turned his great horse heid about
Took his lady on him ahin.

“Sit still, sit still, my gay lady,
Ye see na what I see;
I see the towers o’ my father’s castle,
An’ the lamps are lighted high;
Wi’ the best o’ my father’s horse boys
Weel sall ye wedded be.”

“O haud your tongue now, good Lord John,
Ye work my body woe;
I hope to get your fair bodie
An’ let your horse boys go.”

When they had eaten an’ weel drunken,
An’ a’ fou o’ the best,
The lady sat at a bye table,
An’ fain wad she had rest.

Sometimes her colour waxed red,
An’ other sometimes wan:
She was always like a woman wi’ bairn,
But nowise like a man.

“Win up, win up, my bonnie boy,
Dry down my great horse seen;
Ye gie him meat in due season,
An’ water him at e’en.”

Up she rose an’ oot she goes,
She kent na weel the inn.
In’s great horse sta’ she did down fa’,
An’ there she bore her son.

His mother was a stubbo n woman,
She gaed fae bower to ha’:
“I think I hear a bairn greet,
An’ it isna far awa’.”

Up he rose an’ oot he goes,
For he kent best the inn,
An’ even among his great horse feet
Got his lady an’ her young son.

“An askin, an askin, good Lord John,
An askin ye’se gie me
The lowest room about your house
For your young son an’ me.”

“Your askin’s nae sae great, my dear,
But granted it sall be:
The ae best room in a’ my house
It sall be drest for thee;
An’ my ae sister, Lady Maisry,
An’ she sall wait on thee.”

His mother was a stubborn woman,
She gaed baith oot an’ in:
“Ye micht hae brought a lichter horse boy
Than a woman in travailin’.”

“O haud your tongue, my mother dear,
Let a’ your folly be;
Dear has this lady bought my love,
But now she’s get it free. –

“Be blythe an’ gay, my gay lady,
Be blyther an’ ye may,
Your kirkin an’ your fair weddin’
Sall baith be on ae day:
An’ a’ is for the soft answer
At Clyde’s waters ye gae.

Peggy Seeger sings Child Waters

I warn you all, you ladies fair,
That do wear red and brown,
That you don’t leave your father’s house
To run with a boy from town.

For here am I, a lady fair,
I did wear red and brown,
And I did leave my father’s house
To run with a boy from town.

He’s mounted on his big white horse
And fast away rode he;
She dressed herself like a little footboy
She ran at the horse’s knee.

And when they came to the river’s edge
That ran so deep and wide;
“O will you swim?” her lover said,
“Or hang on the horse’s side?”

The very first step that lady took,
It reached up to her knee;
“O alas, alas!” that lady said,
“I fear you’re drownding me!”

“Lie still, lie still, my baby dear,
“Don’t work your mother woe;
Your father’s high on high horseback
He cares not for us two.”

But when they come to the other side,
She’s mounted on a stone;
He’s turned around his big white horse
And took her on behind.

“O do you see yon high castel
That shines so white and free?
There is a lady in that castel
That will part you and me.

“She will eat the good white bread
You will eat but corn;
And you will set and curse the hour
Ever you was born.”

“If there’s a lady in that castel
That will part you and I;
The day I see her,” Ellen said,
“That day I will die.”

Four-and twenty ladies gay
Welcomed the young man home;
But the fairest one among them all
In the great hall stood alone.

And then upspoke his old mother,
And a wise woman was she:
“Where did you come in with that little footboy
That looks so sad at thee?

“Sometimes his cheek is rosy red
Sometimes it’s pale and wan;
He looks like a woman deep in love,
Or caught in deadly sin.”

“It makes me smile, my mother dear,
To hear them words from thee.
That’s but a lord’s own younger son
Who for love have followed me.

“Rise uo, rise up, my little footboy,
Go feed my horse his hay.
O that I will, my master dear,
Fast as ever I may.”

She took the hay in her soft, white hands,
She ran out from the hall,
She ran into the great stable
And into the horse’s stall.

And there she did begin to weep,
She did begin to mourn,
For even among them great horse-feet
She had to bear her son.

“Lie still, lie still, my baby dear.
Thou pledge of careless love:
I would thy father was a king,
Thy mother in her grave.”

“Rise up, rise up, my darling son,
Go see how she do fare;
For I heard a woman and her baby
Calling for your care.”

Up he rose and down he goe
Into the barn went he,
“Fear not, fear not, Fair Ellen,” he said,
“There’s no-one here but me.”

Up he took his little young son,
And give to him sweet milk;
And up he took Fair Ellen then
And dressed her in green silk.

Frankie Armstrong sings Child Waters

Child Waters in his stable stood,
Stroking his milk-white steed;
When to him come a fairest woman
That ever wore woman’s weeds.

Crying, “Christ you save, Child Waters dear,
Christ you save and see;
My girdle of gold that was too long,
It’s now too short for me.

“And it is with one child of yours
I feel stir in my side.
My gown of green is now too straight;
Before, it was too wide.”

“And if it is a child of mine,
Burd Ellen, as you do swear;
Then take you Cheshire and Lancashire,
And make this child your heir.”

She says, “I would rather had one kiss,
One kiss of your sweet mouth,
Than I’d have Cheshire or Lancashire
That lie to north and south. ”

“But tomorrow, Ellen, I must ride
Into the north country.”
“Then I will run low by your side,
Your foot-page let me be.”

“If you would be my little foot-page,
As you do tell it me,
Then you must kilt your gay green gown
An inch above your knee.

He’s mounted on his milk-white steed,
And fast away did ride,
Burt Ellen’s kilted her gay green gown
And run by the horse’s side.

And he has rode and she has run,
Run barefoot through the broom,
And never was he so courteous a knight
To say, “I’ll buy thee shoon.”

And he has rode on high horseback,
She’s run low beside,
And never was he so courteous a knight
To say, “Burd Ellen, ride.”

And all next day Child Waters rode,
She’s run low beside,
Until they came on the one waters,
The waters called the Clyde.

“O see you not yon waters, Ellen,
That flow from bank to brim?”
“I vow to God, Child Waters,” she says,
“You would not see me swim.”

The firsten step Burd Ellen stept,
The waters come to her knee;
“Alas, alas,” cries Burd Ellen,
“It’s ower deep for me!”

And the nexten step Burd Ellen stept,
The waters come to her waist;
The babe between her two full sides
For cold began to quake.

“Lie still, lie still, my own dear babe!
You cause your mother rue;
Your father who rides on high horseback
Cares little for we two.

“But I learned it in my mother’s bower,
I wish I’d learned it better;
But I can swim this one waters
As well as seal or otter.”

And he has taken the narrow ford,
She has taken the wide;
But long before he’s reached the middle
She was sitting on the other side.

And when he’s reached the other bank,
She’s come on to his side,
“O where’ll be now our resting place
That we this night may bide?”

“O see you not yon castle, Ellen,
That shines so fair to see?
There is a lady living there,
Will sunder you and me.”

“O see you not yon castle, Ellen,
With red gold shines the gates?
There is a lady living there,
To be my worldly mate.”

“I wish no ill to your lady,
She ne’er comes in my thoughts;
But I wish the women most of your love,
The dearest you have bought.

“I wish no ill to your lady,
I’m sure she’s none for me;
But I wish the women most of your love,
The dares this and more for thee.”

When bells were rung, songs were sung,
And all were bound to eat,
Burd Ellen at the low table
With the footmen she was set.

“O eat and drink, my bonny boy,
The white bread and the beer.“
“O ne’er a whit I can eat
For my heart’s so full of fear!”

And out and spoke Child Waters’ mother,
And a canny dame was she,
“How come you by this little foot-page,
That looks so fond on thee?;

“For sometimes his cheeks are rosy red,
Sometimes deathly wan;
He’s like a two-er(?) woman with child
Than a young lord’s serving-man.”

“Rise up, rise up, my bonny boy,
Fetch my horse oats and hay!”
“O that I will, my master,” she says,
“As fast as e’er I may.”

She’s took the hay beneath her arm,
The oats into her hand,
And she’s away to the great stable
As fast as e’er she can.

“O room you round, you bonny brown steed!
O room you next the wall!
I feel a pain between my sides
I fear will make me fall!”

She sat her back against the wall
And gripped ere it was done;
And there between his great steed’s feet
Burd Ellen’s brought forth her son.

And this beheard Child Waters’ mother,
Sat in her bower alone.
“Rise up, rise up, Child Waters!” she says,
“For I do hear a moan!

“There’s either a ghost in your stable, son,
So grievously doth groan,
Or else a woman brought forth with child,
So piteous she doth moan!”

And up and got Child Waters,
Stay’d for neither hose and nor shoon,
And he’s away to the great stable
By the light of the moon.

And when he’s come to the stable-door,
Full still there did he stand,
That he might hear Burd Ellen
As she made her monand.

“Lullaby, my own dear child!
Lullaby, my dear!
I wish your father were a king,
Your mother laid on a bier!”

He’s kicked the great-door with his foot
And pushed it with his knee;
And iron locks and iron bolts
Unto the floor flung he.

And he’s taken up his own young son
Go wash him in the milk;
And he has ta’en up Burd Ellen
Go dress you in the silk.

“Peace now, Burd Ellen,” he says,
Be of good cheer I pray,
Your bridal and his christening both
Will be all on one day!”