> Peter Bellamy > Songs > The Burning
> June Tabor > Songs > Susie Clelland

Lady Maisry / The Burning / Bonnie Susie Cleland

[ Roud 45 ; Child 65 ; Ballad Index C065 ; VWML GG/1/9/536 ; GlosTrad Roud 45 ; Wiltshire 1049 ; DT SCLELAND , LMAISRY ; Mudcat 13365 , 17101 ; trad.]

Folk Songs Collected by Ralph Vaughan Williams One Hundred English Folksongs Songs and Ballads of Dundee The Oxford Book of Ballads

Derek & Dorothy Elliott recorded Lady Maisry in 1972 for their eponymous album, Derek & Dorothy Elliott. They noted:

This ballad can be found in greater detail in Child’s English and Scottish Popular Ballads. The many versions found there suggest that Lady Maisry was pregnant by a lord of whom her family disapproved, and they made preparations for her for a last kiss, but her body fells apart. The version here was collected by Cecil Sharp in Somerset, and omits these gruesome details, leaving a sad romantic song similar to Lord Lovell.

Peter Bellamy sang The Burning unaccompanied to his own tune on his 1975 album Tell It Like It Was. He noted:

This fragment, probably of the ballad Lady Maisry, was brought to my attention by a good friend and singer, John Moreton, who found the words in an old Norfolk miscellany. The tune is mine.

The Clutha sang Bonnie Susie Cleland on their 1977 Topic album The Bonnie Mill Dams. They noted:

This song, a version of the better known Lady Maisry, was first published by William Motherwell in his Minstrelsy Ancient and Modern (1827) and he is the only collector to report it. Some think it may have been Motherwell’s composition, though his manuscript collection contains three slightly differing versions—two of them credited to Mrs. Thomson of Kilbarchan and Mrs. McLean of Glasgow.

Chris Foster sang Lady Maisry in 1977 on his Topic album Layers and in 2004 on his Tradition Bearers CD Jewels. He noted:

I found the main guts of the text and tune for the ballad Lady Maisry in the Hammond manuscripts at the Vaughan Williams Memorial Library in London. Henry Hammond collected the song in 1906 from Sam Gregory at Beaminster, a small Dorset town that I often hitch hiked through om the way to the seaside at West Bay in my youth. I filled out the Sam Gregory text with verses from versions in the Child collection in order to complete the story.

Fraser and Ian Bruce sang Bonnie Susie Clelland on their 1985 album Mrs Bruce’s Boys, Vol. 2. This recording was also included in 2015 on their Greentrax anthology The Best of Mrs Bruce’s Boys.

Oyster Band sang Bonnie Suzie Clelland on their 1985 album Liberty Hall, and June Tabor sang Susie Clelland in 1990 on their album Freedom and Rain. Their live recording from the American public radio programme “Mountain Stage” was included in 1993 on the Rykodisk anniversary sampler Medium Rare.

Ewan MacColl sang Lady Maisry in 1986 on his and Peggy Seeger’s album Blood & Roses Volume 4. He noted:

Misalliance is a common ballad theme. Generally it is a matter of social disparity, more rarely a difference in the age of a couple. In this Scots ballad, it is nationality which is at issue and one could search through the entire Child canon without finding anything to equal its fierce anti-English sentiments. The fearful death of the heroine at the hand of her brother is by no means far-fetched: death by fire was, it seems, the regular penalty for incontinence in an unmarried woman. There may have been no actual law to that effect but every country in Europe has a stock of songs and tales dealing with this form of punishment.

Cilla Fisher sang Bonnie Susie Clelland on the 1988 Temple anthology A Celebration of Scottish Music.

Maureen Jelks sang Bonnie Susie Cleland on her 1988 album First Time Ever. She also sang it at the Fife Traditional Singing Festival, Collessie, Fife in May 2006. This recording was released in the following year on the festival anthology Some Rants o’ Fun (Old Songs & Bothy Ballads Volume 3). The liner notes commented:

This is a version of the ballad of Lady Maisry (Child 65) and, in this form, it was originally collected by William Motherwell in the west of Scotland and first published (words and tune) in his Minstrelsy Ancient and Modern of 1827. It does not seem to have survived in the living tradition but has been recorded by several singers in recent years.

It seems unlikely that the ballad is a record of a historic event. However, there were a number of witch burnings in Dundee, the last being that of Grissell Jaffray in November 1669. Local tradition holds that a number of women were killed for consorting with English soldiers in the years after the Siege of Dundee in 1651 when General Monk’s troops sacked the city.

The name Cleland is a Lanarkshire name—and Motherwell’s versions came from singers in Kilbarchan, Ayrshire and Glasgow. The name was not common in the Dundee area and is not included among the names of those burned in Dundee in the Presbytery records. A spine-chilling manuscript is in Dundee’s archives [not available at the given URL anymore]. This account lists the sums spent on the 1590 burning of a witch, such as two shillings (£0.10) to Esmie Goldman for four fathoms of rope, fifteen shillings (£0.75) for three baskets of coal, six shillings (£0.30) for two tar barrels and six shillings and eightpence (£0.33) for the hangman’s travel expenses from St Andrews. The treasurer totals the expense as five pounds, sixteen shillings and eightpence (£5.81)—but the name of the poor woman does not merit a mention!

Hen Party sang Bonnie Susie Cleland in 1998 on their WildGoose CD Nobody Here But Us…. They noted:

We are very puzzled by Susie. She preferred to be burnt at the stake by her father rather than give up her English lover. Some may say, “Serve her right”, others may think she made the correct decision. There are no records of Scottish parents chastising their errant daughters in the way that this song describes. As far as we know it has never been a crime to fall in love with a man south of the border. Could Devolution change all this …? Vaughan Williams collected this version of the song in Cambridge.

Jim Reid sang Bonnie Susie Cleland on his 2001 album Emfae Dundee. He noted:

Robert Ford in his Vagabond Songs collection of 1898 could not understand the reason for the heroine’s cruel fate, but I’ve had the advantage of reading William Blake’s Witches Blood in which he tells the story of the family called English. All you have to do is substitute Elspet Renkyne for Susie Cleland and you have it.

Sheena Wellington sang Bonnie Susie Cleland in 2003 on her Greentrax CD Hamely Fare. She noted:

This ballad, which appears to be a variant of Lady Maisry (Child 65), first appears in William Mothenvell’ collection. It is unlikely that the ballad is an historic record but there were a number of witch burnings in Dundee, the last being that of Grissell Jaffray in November 1669. Local tradition holds that a number of women were killed for consorting with English soldiers in the years after the Siege of Dundee in 1651 when General Monk’s troops sacked the city.

There is no trace of a Cleland in any spelling (a Lanarkshire name, it was not common in the Dundee area) but the names of those burned were not always noted in Presbytery records. A spine-chilling manuscript in Dundee’s archives [not available at the given URL anymore] carefully records sums spent on rope, coal, tar and the executioner’s travel for the 1590 burning of a woman whose name doesn’t merit a mention!

I am very grateful to City of Dundee Senior Librarian David Kett, City Archivist lain Flett and Maureen Reid of the Local Studies department for responding with enthusiasm, skill and precision to my request for information.

Bella Hardy learned Bonnie Susie Cleland from the singing of Hen Party and sang it in 2007 on her first CD, Night Visiting.

Lucy Pringle & Chris Wright sang Lady Maisry on their 2010 CD The Speaking Heart. They noted:

This is our reworking of a traditional ballad of love, honour-killing and revenge, based on a variant collected around 1826 from Mary Orr of Kilbirnie, Ayrshire. Andrew Sloan collected the song on behalf of Renfewshire scholar Andrew Crawfurd for his ‘Auld Ballads’ collection, now housed in Paisley Central Library; the collection was later

Alasdair Roberts sang Bonnie Susie Cleland in 2011 on Concerto Caledonia’s CD Revenge of the Folksingers, giving Maureen Jelks’s Fife recording as his source.

Mark T sang Lady Maisry in 2011 on his CD Folk Songs and Ballads.

Lady Maisery sang Lady Maisry in 2013 on their RootBeat CD Mayday. They noted:

Social class is also at the heart of The Factory Girl, a traditional song of Irish origin which we learnt via 1980s female pop trio, The Roches. The factory girl’s work is a source of her independence, strength and identity, and so she rejects the rich man who would turn her into a ‘lady’ who need never work again. In contrast, Lady Maisry comes from a wealthy family, but her social position eventually affords her less freedom than the factory girl. For centuries, women from aristocratic families were often married-off to in order to forge political alliances. Lady Maisry attempts to marry for love instead and assert her own sexual freedom, which drastically ends in what we might call an honour killing today. We collated our text from various versions in the Child Ballad collection. The tune was collected by George Gardiner from David Clements of Basingstoke in January 1909. [VWML GG/1/9/536]

Jo Miller sang Laidy Maisry on Alison McMorland with Jo Miller and Kirsty Pott’s 2024 album Some Ballads of Anna Gordon, Mrs. Brown of Falkland.

Lyrics

Peter Bellamy sings The Burning

My father was the first good man
Who tied me to the stake;
My mother was the first good woman,
She did the fire make.

My brother was the second good man,
He did the fire fetch;
And my sister was the second good woman
Who lighted it with a match.

And they blew the fire, they kindled the fire
Till it did reach my knee:
“Oh mother, mother, quench the fire!
For the smoke do smother me.”

“Oh had I but my little foot-page,
An errand he might run;
I would send him away to London gay
To bid my lord come home.”

Well, by there stood by her sister’s child,
Her own dear sister’s son:
“It’s many an errand I’ve run for thee
And this one too I’ll run.”

He ran, where the bridge it were broken down,
He bent his bow and swam;
He swam till he came to the good green land,
There he jumped to his feet and ran.

And he ran till he came to his uncle’s hall
Where is uncle sat at meat:
“Good meat, good meat, good uncle, I pray,
If you knew what I have to say,
How little you would eat!”

“Oh is my castle broken down,
Or is my tower won?
Or is my lady brought to bed
Of a daughter or a son?”

“Your castle is not broken down,
Nor is your tower won;
Nor is your lady brought to bed
Of a daughter or a son.”

“But she has give me a gay gold ring
With posies round the rim,
And she swears if you bear any love for her,
You will ride to her burning.”

So he’s called up his merry men
By one, by two, by three;
And he’s mounted upon his milk-white steed
To ride to Margery.

She’s looked o’er her left shoulder,
Saw her girdle hanging free:
“Oh God bless them that gave me this!
For no more they’ll give to me.”

She’s looked o’er her right shoulder,
Saw her lord come riding home:
“Oh mother, mother, quench the fire!
For I am nearly gone.”

But they blew the fire, they kindled the fire,
Till it did reach her chin:
“O mother, mother, quench the fire!
For I am nearly gone.”

He’s mounted down from his milk-white steed
And into the fire he’s run;
He was thinking to save his lady gay,
But he had staid too long.

Chris Foster sings Lady Maisry

O the young men of the North Country
Have all wooing gone
To win the love of Lady Maisry
But of them she would have none.

“O hold your tongues, young men,” said she,
“And think no more of me,
For I’ve given my love to an English lord
Who promised to marry me.”

Then word has to her father gone
As he put on his shoe
That Lady Maisry goes with a child
Unto some English lord.

Then in there come her bold father dear
Stepping on the floor.
Hey says, “They tell to me, my daughter Maisry
That your are become a whore.”

“O a whore father, a whore father,
That is what I’ll never be,
Though I’ve given my love to an English lord
Who promised to marry me.”

“But couldn’t you have gotten a duke or a lord
From you own country
But now you have gone with this English lord
To bring this shame on me.”

“Now where are all my merry young men
Whom I give meat and fee
Tu pull the thistle and the thorn
to burn her vile body.”

Then her father has to the greenwood gone,
Her brother has to the broome,
All for to kindle a bold bonfire
To burn her body in.

Then in there come an old woman
Lady Maisry’s nurse was she,
But before she could speak one single word
A salt tear blinded her eye.

“O your father has to the greenwood gone,
Your brother has to the broome,
All for to kindle a bold bonfire
To burn your body in.”

And her father was the first man
Who tied her to a stake
And her brother was the second man
Who did the fire make.

And her mother was the first woman
Who did the fire fetch
And her sister was the second woman
Who lighted it with a match.

The blew the fire and they kindled the fire
Till it reach her knee.
“O mother, mother, quench the fire
For the smoke it’ll smother me.”

“O had I but a little footboy
My errand he could run,
He would run unto gay London town
And bid my lord come home.

“O nurse come and fetch to me my little footboy
Who is called my sister’s son,
So that he may go and tell to my own true love
That I am sick at home.”

Well the first two miles the little boy walked,
The second two he run,
And he run until he come to some broad waterside
And then he’s fell upon his breast and he swum

Until he come undo some dry land again.
Then he took to his heels and he run
And he run until he come to some high park gate
Where lords were sitting at their meal.

“O if you did but know what news I have brought
Not a bite more would you eat.”
“O is my park gates overthrown
Or is my walls falling down?”

“O your high park gates they are all overthrown,
Your high park walls they are all a-falling down,
And your Lady Maisry lies sick at home
And shall die before you can come.”

“O mother go and fetch to me my milk-white steed
And saddle it with speed
So that I may go and kiss her cherry cheeks
Before they are turned to clay.”

“Now where are all my merry young men
By one, by two and three?”
Then he’s mounted up on his milk-white steed
To get to his Lady Maisry.

They blew the fire and they kindled the fire
Till it did reach her head.
“O mother, mother, quench the fire!
For I am nearly dead.”

The she’s turned her head on her right shoulder,
She saw her lord come riding home,
“O mother, mother, quench the fire!
For I am nearly gone.”

Then he’s mounted off of his milk-white steed
And he’s leapt into the fire,
He was thinking to save his Lady Maisry
But he had stayed too long.

And the Lady she was buried in a cold churchyard,
The lord was buried in the choir,
And out of her heart there sprung a sweet rose
And out of his mouth a sweet briar.

And they growed so high unto the church wall
Until they could not grow any higher,
And there they did twang in a true lover’s knot
For all true lovers to admire.

Ewan MacColl sings Lady Maisry

The young men o’ the north country
Hae a’ a-coortin’ gane,
To win the love o’ Lady Maisry,
But o’ them she would hae nane.

They hae coorted Lady Maisry
Wi’ brooches and wi’ rings,
And they hae socht her, Lady Maisry,
Wi’ a’ kinds o’ things.

And they hae socht her, Lady Maisry,
Frae her faither and her mither;
They hae socht her, Lady Maisry,
Fae her sister and her brither.

A’ you young men, haud your tongues, she said,
And think nae mair on me;
For I’ve gi’en my love to an English Lord
And he’s gi’en his to me.

Her faither’s kitchie-boy was there
He was stannin’ close at hand,
And he’s gane tae her brither
As fast as he could gang.

Is my faither and my mither weel,
And how fare my brithers three?
Whit news o’ my sister, Maisry,
Whit news hae ye brocht to me?

Your faither and your mither’s weel
And your brithers weel are farin’
But your sister, Lady Maisry,
She gangs big wi’ bairn.

He’s gane tae his sister’s bower
Filled wi’ muckle dule and care;
And he saw her, Lady Maisry,
Kaimin’ doon her yellow hair.

When he was in her bower
And his foot was on the floor,
He said, They tell me, sister Maisry
That you’ve become a whore.

Wha’s the faither o’ that bairn, he said,
That ye sae big are wi’?
Wha’s the faither o’ that bairn?
Come tell the truth to me!

O pardon me, my brither,
And the truth I’ll tell to thee:
My bairn is tae an English lord
And he’s gi’en his troth to me.

Could ye no’ hae gotten lords enough
Into your ain country,
That ye’ve played the whore wi’ an English dog
And brocht sic shame tae me.

O whaur is a’ my merry men
That took baith meat and fee?
Gae pu’ the thistle and the thorn
To burn this vile whore wi’.

O whaur will I get a bonnie boy
To help me in my need,
To rin to my love, William,
And bid him come wi’ speed.

Then oot and spak a bonnie boy,
Stood at her brither’s knee;
O I would rin your errand,
Owre a’ the warld for thee.

When he cam’ tae the broken brigs
He bent his bow and swam,
When he cam’ tae green grass growin’,
Sat doon his foot and ran.

When he cam’ tae Lord William’s castle,
He lichtly leap’ the wall,
Ere the porter cam’ runnin’ tae the gate,
That lad he was in the ha’.

O is my biggin broken, boy,
Or is my towers won?
Or is my lady lighter
O’ a daughter or a son?

Your biggin isnae broken, sir,
Nor is your towers won;
But your bonnie Lady Maisry
For you this day maun burn.

O saddle me the black, the black,
Or saddle the broon;
O saddle me the fastest horse
That e’er rode through the toon.

When he was near a mile awa’,
She heard his horse sneeze;
Build the fire up, my fause brither,
For it’s no’ yet tae my knees.

And when he 1ichted at the gate
She heard his bridle ring;
Build the fire up, my fause brither,
For it’s no’ vet tae my chin.

Build the fire up, my fause brither,
Build the fire up tae me;
For I see my William cornin’
And he’ll soon build it up for thee.

O gin my hands had been loose, my Willie,
Sae hard as they are bound,
I would hae turned me frae the fire, love,
And cast oot your young son.

I’ll gar burn for you, my Maisry
Your faither and your mither:
I’ll burn for you, my Maisry,
Your sister and your brither.

I’ll gar burn for you, my Maisry,
The chief o’ a’ your kin;
And the last fire that I come tae,
Mysel’ I will cast in.

June Tabor sings Susie Cleland

There lived a lady in Scotland
Oh my love, oh my love
There lived a lady in Scotland
Oh my love, so early
There lived a lady in Scotland
She’s fallen in love with an Englishman,
Bonnie Susie Cleland, to be married in Dundee.

The father to the daughter came,
The father to the daughter came,
The father to the daughter came,
Saying, “Will you forsake that Englishman?”
Bonnie Susie Cleland, to be married in Dundee.

“I will not that man forsake,
Oh my love, oh my love
I will not that man forsake,
I will not that man forsake,
Though you should burn me at the stake.”
Bonnie Susie Cleland, to be married in Dundee.

“Where can I get a fine young boy,
Where can I get a fine young boy,
Where can I get a fine young boy,
To carry the tidings to my joy?”
Bonnie Susie Cleland, to be married in Dundee.

Up and spoke the fine young boy,
Up and spoke the fine young boy,
Oh my love, so early
Up and spoke the fine young boy,
“I’ll carry the tidings to your joy.”
Bonnie Susie Cleland, to be married in Dundee.

“Give to him this little pen knife,
Give to him this little pen knife,
Give to him this little pen knife,
Tell him to get him another wife.”
Bonnie Susie Cleland, to be married in Dundee.

“Give to him this fine gold ring,
Give to him this fine gold ring,
Give to him this fine gold ring,
Tell him I’m going to my burning.”
Bonnie Susie Cleland, to be buried in Dundee.

The father dragged her to the stake,
Oh my love, oh my love
The father dragged her to the stake,
Oh my love, so early
The father dragged her to the stake,
The mother then the fire did make,
Bonnie Susie Cleland, to be buried in Dundee.

There lived a lady in Scotland
Oh my love, oh my love
There lived a lady in Scotland
Oh my love, so early
There lived a lady in Scotland
She’s fallen in love with an Englishman,
Bonnie Susie Cleland, to be buried in Dundee.

Sheena Wellington sings Bonnie Susie Cleland

There lived a lady in Scotland,
Hey my love and ho my joy
There lived a lady in Scotland,
Wha dearly loes me
There lived a lady in Scotland,
She’s fa’n in love wi an Englishman
An bonnie Susie Cleland’s tae be burnt in Dundee.

The faither tae the dochter cam,
The faither tae the dochter cam,
The faither tae the dochter cam,
“Will ye forsake yer Englishman?
Or bonnie Susie Cleland’s tae be burnt in Dundee.”

I’ll no my Englishman forsake;
I’ll no my Englishman forsake;
I’ll no my Englishman forsake,
Though ye micht burn me at the stake
An bonnie Susie Cleland’s tae be burnt in Dundee.

Oh whaur will I get a little wee boy,
Oh whaur will I get a little wee boy,
Oh whaur will I get a little wee boy,
Tae cerry tidins tae my joy
That bonnie Susie Cleland’s tae be burnt in Dundee.

O here am I, a little wee boy,
O here am I, a little wee boy,
O here am I, a little wee boy,
I’ll cerry tidings tae yer joy
That bonnie Susie Cleland’s tae be burnt in Dundee.

Gae gie tae him my richt hand glove,
Gae gie tae him my rieht hand glove,
Gae gie tae him my rieht hand glove,
Tell him tae fidn another love
That bonnie Susie Cleland’s tae be burnt in Dundee.

Gae gie tae him my guid gowd ring, hey my love and ho my joy
Gae gie tae him my guid gowd ring,
Gae gie tae him my guid gowd ring,
Tell him I’m gaun tae my burning
An bonnie Susie Cleland’s tae be burnt in Dundee.

Her faither he ca’d up the stake, Her faither he ca’d up the stake,
Her faither he ca’d up the stake,
Her brither he the fire did make
An bonnie Susie Cleland was burnt in Dundee.