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[Applause.]
01
First song, is that alright?
First song, is a bothy ballad. Twa Recruitin Sergeants. It's
a song about the guys gan roon the fairs, the hirin fairs,
and try and inveigle the guys off the farm tae take them away.
Tell them how hard their life is on the farm rather than what
it would be like, the easy life away, gallivanting away tae
France and Spain
Twa recruitin sergeants came frae the Black
Watch,
Tae markets and fairs some recruits for to catch,
But a' that they listed was forty and twa,
Sae list my bonny laddie, and come awa.
And it's over the mountains and over the main,
Through Gibraltar tae France and Spain,
Get a feather tae your bonnet, and yer kilt abeen your knee,
And list my bonny laddie and come awa wi me.
Well its oot o the barn and intae the byre,
Aye yon auld fairmer thinks that ye'll never tire,
It's a slavery job of low degree,
Aye list my bonny laddie and come awa wi me.
And it's over the mountains and over the main,
Through Gibraltar tae France and Spain,
Get a feather tae your bonnet, and yer kilt abeen your knee,
And list my bonny laddie and come awa wi me.
Oh laddie you dinnae ken the dangers that you're
in
If your horse were to fleg or your owsen was to ruin
The greedy, old farmer he widnae pay your fee
So list my bonny laddie and come awa' wi' me
And it's over the mountains and over the main,
Through Gibraltar tae France and Spain,
Get a feather tae your bonnet, and yer kilt abeen your knee,
And list my bonny laddie and come awa wi me.
Wi yer tattie pourins and yer meal and kale,
Yer soor sowin sowans and yer ill-brewed ale,
Yer buttermilk, and whey, and yer breid ??,
And list, my bonny laddie and come awa.
And it's over the mountains and over the main,
Through Gibraltar tae France and Spain,
Get a feather tae your bonnet, and yer kilt abeen your knee,
And list my bonny laddie and come awa wi me.
Oh laddie, if ye hiv a sweetheart and a bairn,
You'll seen be rid o that ill-spun yarn,
Yin rattle o the drum aye and that will pey for a',
And list my bonny laddie and come awa.
And it's over the mountains and over the main,
Through Gibraltar tae France and Spain,
Get a feather tae your bonnet, and yer kilt abeen your knee,
And list my bonny laddie and come awa wi me.
Thank you.
[Applause]
03
This next song is a love
song fae Perthshire. A song that was very popular about a
hundred years ago. It's written by a guy from Perth, just
forget his name. It's called 'The Lass o Glenshee'.
It's a fine summer day and the heather wis bloomin,
The silent hill hummed, where the ?? be,
When I met a fine lassie as I hameward wis ridin,
She was herdin her sheep on the hills o Glenshee.
And the rose in her cheek it was gem wi a dimple,
And blithe was the blink o her bonnie blue ee,
O her face sae enchantin, sae sweet, aye sae wanton,
My hairt seen belanged tae that lass o Glenshee.
Well I kissed and caressed her and said my dear
lassie,
If ye wad gang tae St Johnstone wi me,
Oh there's nane o the fair wad ?? tae the causeway,
Wi claethin sae fine as at lass o Glenshee.
And a cairriage for ridin aye, ye shall be having
Aye and women [forgets…]
And a cairriage for pleasure, aye ye'll hae
tae ride in ,
(Done it again! Second time I've done that here)
And a cairriage for pleasure, aye ye'll hae
tae ride in
(forgets)
Tae command at yer bidding, I'll make ye ma
lady sweet lass o Glenshee.
Oh mock me nae noo wi yer cairriage tae ride
in,
Or think on ye're grand jaw, I value a flea,
I would think masel blessed wi ma cloak o fine ??,
Wi ma innocent herd up here in Glenshee.
Noo the lark micht forget tae rise up in the
mornin,
And spring micht forget tae revive on the lea,
A but nivver would I, while my senses were governed,
Forget tae be kind tae a lassie like thee.
Then I'll think on sic stories and come up and
meet,
Our fevers gaed run, my sweet bride ye shall be,
There's not in my airms I will dote on ye kindly,
She smiled, she consented, while I took her wi me.
Noo the years hae gaen by since we buckled the
day,
The seasons they change, lord nae changes wi me,
For she's ayeways as gay as the fair summer weather,
One ?? suns are ?? on the hills o Glenshee.
O to meet wi my Jenny, my life I would venture
She's as sweet as the echo that rings ower a the lea
She's spotless and pure like the sna reive the winter
When ?? tae bleach on the hills o Glenshee
Thank you.
[Applause]
05
The nicht was fine, twas
efter nine, the meen by cloods wis hidden,
When in the dark, ower moss an park, gaed Jock at Katie's
biddin-o,
At sax o'clock Jock supped his brose, and changed his sell
for cheerie-o,
Pulled ower his queets, his Sunday beets, and gaed aff tae
meet his dearie-o.
The road wis lang, but Jock aye sang, o Kate
ye are ma charmer-o,
At Whitsun time ye'll be ma bride and leave the hungry fairmer-o,
It's me tae thank for in the bank twa hundred pound I've lyin-o,
I'm nae sae daft, I've taen a craft, ma fortunes I'll be tryin-o.
But passin through auld Meldrum toon, roon by
the inn come Tammie-o,
And Tam and Jock hid acht o'clock gaed in tae hae a dramie-o,
Noo sic a time the plooman had wi ale and fusky cheerie-o,
The drink gaed doon, but Jock forgot that he'd tae meet his
dearie-o.
They sat and newsed and aye they boozed till
shuttin time it chappit-o,
Syne Jock he rase and in a daze he very nearly drappit-o,
And sin aff he waumled ower the rigs, gae weel he kent the
stable-o,
For oft he'd gaen tae meet his Kate as seen as she wis able-o.
Jock feelin queer, the fairm drew near, syne
in the close he landed-o,
Nae meen did glint he tint his wey, in the midden he got stranded-o,
He crackit spunks and fun his wey, roon by the byre's gable-o,
Wi sharnie feets and dubbie queets at last he reached the
stable-o.
Jock steed and thocht the whisky vrocht the
drink hid fairly matched him-o,
A workin steer wis standin near, and roon his neck Jock clasped
him-o,
Noo Kate ma dear, you'll vow richt here there's nane but me
ye'll mairry-o,
But Losh ma doo, ye've turned tae coo, ye're affa roch and
hairy-o.
Syne in come Katie wi a licht, she lauched as
she wis greetin-o,
She fairly thocht her lad gaed mad, she ne'er hid sic a meeting-o,
The workin steer he looked sae queer, but he never gaed a
??,
He nivver thocht that he hae vrocht wi sic an unco collar-o.
Kate glowered at Jock, Jock glowered at Kate,
the stot wis fair dumbfounert-o,
Jock slacked his hud, an wi a thud he in the foresta founert-o,
But sin the sport wis broken short by Katie's kind compassion-o,
She nivver thocht she'd see a stot dressed up in sic a fashion-o.
She claisped her airm aroon Jock's neck tae
the kitchie she did guide him-o,
We some strong tea, she wid good and free, but she nivver
stopped tae chide him-o,
But noo they're mairried, man and wife, and lang may they
be able-o,
Tae lauch at fate and ne'er forget the coortin in the stable-o.
[Applause]
06
My name is Jimmy Raeburn,
fae Glesgae toon I came,
My place o habitation I tell hae ye fin shame,
For my place o habitation noo I maun gang awa,
And leave the bonny hills and dells o Caledonia.
It wis early in the mornin, afore the dawn o
day,
Our keeper he come roon to us and unto us did say,
Arise ye hapless convicts, arise ye een and a',
This is the day that ye maun stray fae Caledonia.
[End of Side A.]
[Song continued.]
Fareweel my honest father, ye are the best o
men,
Likewise men true sweethairt, it's Catherine is her name,
Nae mair we'll walk by Clyde's clear streams nor by the Broomielaw,
Nor see again the hills and dells o Caledonia.
If we nivver met on earth again, we'll meet
in heaven above,
Where hallelujah's will be sung to him whaur is in love,
Nae earthly judge shall judge us then, but he who ruleth all,
Far, far frae a the hills and dells o Caledonia,
Far frae the bonny hills and dells o Caledonia.
[Applause]
07
[Joe Aitken] Here's a song that wis written by the great,
great Belle Stewart back in 1930.
[Bad echo.]
When berry time comes roon each year Blair's
population swellin,
There's every kind o picker ere, there's every kind o dwellin,
They've tents and huts and caravans, there's ?? and there's
??
There's shelters made wi tattie bags and dugoots made wi divvies.
There's foreigner boys fae Glesgae, ?? fae Lochee,
There's miners fae the pits of Fife, the ?? fae Dundee,
There's fishin fowk fae Peterheid and tramps fae everywhere,
A trying tae mak a livin on the Berryfields o Blair.
There's fairmers fae the Western Isles, fae
Appin, Mull and Skye,
Fae Harris, Lewis and Kyles o Bute, they've come their luck
tae try,
Fae Inverness and Elgin, fae Stornoway and Wick,
A flock tae Blair at berry time, the stra's and rasps tae
pick.
There's some wha ??, there's mony in ??,
There's some wha work fae morn tae nicht and some wid raither
sleep,
There's some wha hiv tae pick ?? there's some wha dinna care,
Aye there's some wha bless and there's some wha cuss, the
berry fields o Blair.
There's faimilies pickin for ?? there's some
wha pick alane,
There's them wha share and share alike, wi wives that ??,
There's sadness and there's gladness aye, there's happy hearts
and ??,
There's comedy and tragedy played on the fields o Blair.
But afore I put ma pen awa, I'd ?? like tae
say,
Ye'll traivel far afore ye'll meet a kinder work than they,
For a mixtry?? in and few o them ??, and ??,
I'll bless among the ??, the berry fields o Blair.
[Applause]
08
Right, here's een o the,
one o the mair common Bothy Ballads, 'Nicky Tams'.
When I wis only ten year auld I left the pairish
skweel,
Ma faither fee'd me tae the Mains to cha his milk and meal.
I first put on ma nether breeks ti hap ma spinnle trams,
An happit roon ma knappin knees a pair o nicky tams.
It's first I gaed on for baillie loon an' syne
I gaed on for third,
An syne of course I hid to get the horseman's grip and word,
A loaf o breid to be ma piece, a bottle for drinking drams,
Bit ye canna ging through the cauf-hoose door withoot yer
nicky tams.
The fairmer I am wi' aye noo, he's wealthy but
he's mean,
Though corn's cheap his horse is thin, his harness nearly
deen,
He gars us load oor cairts ower fu, his conscience his nae
qualms,
But fan breist-straps brak, there's naething like a pair o
nicky tams.
I'm coortin bonnie Annie noo, Rob Tamson's kitchie
deem,
She is five-an-forty and I am but saiventeen,
She clorts a muckle piece to me wi different kinds o jams,
Aye an tells me ilka nicht that she admires ma nicky tams.
Ae Sunday mornin I set oot, the kirkie for to
gang,
My collar it wis unco ticht, ma breeks were neen owre lang;
I had ma Bible in ma pooch, likewise ma buik o Psalms,
When Annie roars, "Ye muckle gype, tak aff yer nicky
tams!"
Though unco sweir, I took them aff, the lassie
for to please,
But aye ma breeks they lurkit up aroon aboot ma knees.
A wasp gaed crawlin up ma leg in the middle o the Psalms,
Oh nivver again will I rig the kirk withoot ma nicky tams.
Noo I've aften thocht I'd like to be a bobbie
on the Force,
Or maybe I'll get on the cars and drive a pair o horse,
But fitever it's ma luck tae be, a bobbie or on the trams,
I'll never forget the happy days I wore ma nicky tams.
[Applause]
10
This is a bothy ballad, but
it's nae in the cornkister genre, it's mair o a sentimental
yin. In fact it's fae this part o the world.
Oh come o come, my bonny love,
We'll baith jine haunds and mairry,
What o the world say that they will,
For we'll baith jine haunds and mairry, mairry,
For we'll baith jine haunds and mairry, mairry.
I'll gie tae ye my pipes and drones,
Tae play when ye are weary,
And a that I'll seek back fae ye,
Is a kiss fae thee my dearie, dearie,
Is a kiss fae thee my dearie, dearie.
I widnae hae yer pipes and drones,
Tae play when I am weary,
And a kiss fae me ye'll never get,
And aye ne'er shall ca ye dearie, dearie,
And aye ne'er shall ca ye dearie, dearie.
I'll gie tae ye my fleecy flock,
Though they were twice as many,
And a that I'll seek back frae thee,
Is we'll baith jine haunds and mairry, mairry,
Is we'll baith jine haunds and mairry, mairry.
But when her faither heard o this,
He widnae let her tak him,
And a that he could say tae her,
It's best that ye forsake him, sake him,
It's best that ye forsake him, sake him
And when she heard whit he had said,
He went tae a place near Rhynie,
And he threw himself oot ower a rock,
And wis nivver seen be ony, ony,
And wis nivver seen be ony, ony.
And when she heard whit he had daen,
The tears came doon lamenting,
And she's weepit lood, and she's weepit sair,
For her shepherd lad o Rhynie, Rhynie,
For her shepherd lad o Rhynie, Rhynie.
O faither, faither, mak ma bed,
And mak it lang and narrow,
For my love died for me today,
I shall die for him tomorrow, morrow,
I shall die for him tomorrow, morrow.
She put her airms roon her faither's neck,
And her hairt wis foo o sorrow,
And she pit her heid on her faither's chest,
And she ne'er did see the morrow, morrow,
And she ne'er did see the morrow, morrow.
[Applause]
12
I'll change the second song,
cause somebody already sung it. I'd like tae dae 'The Clatterin
o the Clyde Water, a classical ballad.
I hae a steed in my stable, cost me twice twenty
pounds,
And I'll pit trust in his fower legs that you carry me safe
tae the land,
Noo he's gaed ower yon high, high hill, and doon yon dowie
den,
And the clatterin o the Clyde's watters, it would fear ten
thousand men.
Spare me, spare me, Clyde watter. Oh spare me
as I gang,
Ye can mak me a rick when I come back, but spare me as I gang,
When he got tae his Maggie's bower, o Maggie let me in,
For ma boots are full o the Clyde's watter, and I'm tremblin
tae the chin.
My love tis full, he ??, my stable's foo o steed,
And ma bower is foo o gentlemen and they won't remove tonight,
He turned his horse roon aboot, wi a salt tear in his ee,
For it's goodbye false Maggie he cried, and it's goodbye Maggie
cried he.
And he's gaed ower yon high, high hill and doon
yon dowie den,
And the clatterin o the Clyde's watter would fear ten thousand
men,
He's first step in the Clyde's watter, taen William's frae
him,
Fan the clatterin o the Clyde's watter, taen Williams came
frae him.
William bent low ower his horse, tae catch his
hat befores,
And the clatterin o the Clyde's watters, taen William frae
his horse,
William's brither wis on the bank. O William, will ye droon?
For if ye catch hud o yer stallion's heid, he'll learn how
tae swim.
How can I catch my stallion's heid, and he learn
me tae swim,
For sleep I wait, false Maggie dear, for she widnae let me
in,
Noo she's gaed ower yon high, high hill and doon yon dowie
den,
And the deepest pools in the Clyde's watters, she's foun her
William in.
William, William… [tape ends]
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