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Heir of Linne

[ Roud 111 / Song Subject MAS1010 ; Child 267 ; G/D 2:273 ; Ballad Index C267 ; DT LAIRDLIN ; trad.]

David Herd: Ancient and Modern Scottish Songs, Heroic Ballads, etc., Second Volume Alexander Keith: Last Leaves of Traditional Ballads and Ballad Airs Ewan MacColl: Folk Songs and Ballads of Scotland

Ewan MacColl sang The Heir o’ Lynne in 1956 on the Riverside anthology The English and Scottish Popular Ballads (The Child Ballads) Volume III. He also included this ballad in his 1965 book Folk Songs and Ballads of Scotland. Kenneth S. Goldstein noted in the album’s booklet:

The Scottish versions of this ballad do not give us the complete story. In the English version (Child “A” text, from Percy’s Reliques), we are told of the young Scottish lord who dissipates his wealth by gambling and drinking and who is finally reduced to begging. The Scottish versions take the story from this point. He has no place to sleep or eat and no one will take him in. His nurse feeds him knowing that she will never see her deed repaid. At his darkest hour, he remembers a key which his mother left to him, and by means of which he recovers his fortune. The new lord, not knowing of the heir’s newly-found fortune, teases him with the offer to sell him back his lands for some pittance. The Heir of Linne asks the guests to be witnesses to this offer, and then produces his money, obtaining back his property. He then repays the nurse for her kindness. The English version mentioned above had been greatly amended by Percy, so much so that Child called it a “new ballad”, albeit a good one. This amended ballad, which Percy rewrote with stanzas suggested by a broadside entitled The Drunkard’s Legacy, has come down in tradition; a version of it was collected in Virginia in 1917. Scottish versions collected in this century have shown no indications of having been affected by the Percy rewriting.

The version sung by MacColl was learned from his mother.

Maddy Prior sang Heir of Linne on Steeleye Span’s 2004 CD They Called Her Babylon. She noted:

I have the mighty Martin Carthy to thank for directing me to this song. I spent a wonderful weekend last summer listening to him play and talk about ballads and he was waxing lyrical about this one, and in his generous way was enthusiastic for me to develop a version of it. For me, it encapsulates the image of the Dark Night of the Soul, when all is gone and despair drowns any hope. Only then is there a change in fortune. It would take a wisdom and ruthlessness that most of us don’t possess to carry through the plan of the father.

Lyrics

Ewan MacColl sings The Heir o’ Lynne

Lane he stands and lane he gangs,
The weary heir o’ Lynne,
And lane he stands on the cauld causie
And nane will let him in, him in,
And nane will let him in.

When he was the bonnie heir o’ Lynne,
His sheets lay aye in fauld
But now he stands on the cauld causie
And rives his shafts for cauld.

When he was the bonnie heir o’ Lynne,
His brose was keepit het;
But now he stands on the cauld causie
And nane will gie him meat.

“O, gie me a loaf o’ your breid, nericep,
And ane glass o’ your wine,
And I will pay ye seven times ower
When I am the heir o’ Lynne.”

“Ye’se get me a sheaf o’ my breid, Willie,
And a mutchkin o’ my wine,
And ye’ll pay me when the sea gangs dry,
For you’ll never be heir o’ Lynne.”

When he was the bonnie heir o’ Lynne,
He had horses aye to his hand;
But now he walks wi’ a willow wand
Like a palmer through the land.

He’s traivelled East and he’s traivelled West,
Through a’ the wynds o’ Lynne,
Till he min’ty him on a siller key
That he wore next to his skin.

This key he got frae his auld mither
When she was near to deein’,
An’ she tell’t him to keep’t for as muckle need
As ever had mither’s son.

He’s travelled haigh and he’s travelled laigh
Through a’ the wynds o’ Lynne,
And when he came to the iron yett,
The key gaed sleekin’ in.

There were seven kists o’ the white siller
And seiven o’ the gowd sae fine,
And there he got reid gowd enough
To free the lands o’ Lynne.

Then he’s gane doon to a tavern hoose
Whaure the burgesses drink at the wine,
Says, “Gie me a drink o’ your wine, burgess,
For the half o’ it is mine.”

Some would gi’e him a glass, a glass,
Some gi’ed him a fish’s fin,
And some were wae for the beggar chylde
That had tint the lands o’ Lynne.

Then oot it spak’ a prood burgess.
An’ he crowed baith crouse and hie,
“Is’ll gi’e ye your bonnie lands back again
Gin ye’ll gie me but a’e bawbee.”

“Noo, ye’ll be witnesses,” Willie cried,
“Ye’ll be witnesses until me.
He’ll gi’e me my bonnie parks again,
Gin I gi’e him but a’e bawbee.”

“Ay, we’ll be your witnesses, Willie,” they cried,
“We’ll witness until thee.
And we’ll pledge it in the bluid-reid wine,
But whaure’s your a’e bawbee?”

He’s lowpit up to the inglethen
Whaure the burgesses drink at the wine,
And he’s ta’en oot a hantle o’ gowd
To free the lands o’ Lynne.

Then oot it spak’ a prood burgess
And he grat baith loud and hie:
“Gin ye ever hangit a fule,” he cried,
“This day ye may hang me!”

“Come here, come here, my ain nerice,
And I’ll pay ye your breid and wine.
An’ the seas as wat as ever it was,
But I am the heir o’ Lynne.”

Maddy Prior sings Heir of Linne

The bonny heir and the well-faired heir,
The handsome heir of Linne,
Yonder he stands at his father’s gate
And nobody bids him in.
See where he goes and see where he stands,
The weary heir of Linne,
Yonder he stands on the cold causeway
And nobody bids him in.

He’s sold his father’s estate and land,
He’s sold it on a day.
Within three quarters of a year
He’s not one brass penny.
For he has drunk of the wine so clear,
Good company spent his gold.
And now he wanders on the shore
Hungry, wet and cold.

His nurse at her window she looked out,
Beholding dale and down.
And there she saw this sad young man
Come walking to the town.
“Come here, come here my child,” she said,
“And rest yourself with me.
I’ve seen you in much better days
In jovial company.”

“Give me a slice of your bread, Nursey,
And a bottle of your wine.
I’ll pay you for it o’er again
When I’m the Lord of Linne.”
“You’ll get a slice of my bread, my child,
And a bottle of my wine.
But pay me when the seas run dry,
You’ll never be Lord of Linne.”

Then he has turned him right about
As any mother’s son.
So off he has set and found his way
And straightway came to Linne.
But when he came to the castle strong
They were all sat down to dine.
A score of nobles there he saw,
Sat drinking at the wine.

Some said, “Give him the beef, the beef,”
Some said, “Give him the bone.”
And some said, “Give him nothing at all
But let the beggar roam.”
Then up and spake the new-come lord,
A saucy word spoke he,
“Pass round the cup, let my rival sup,
Then send him on his way.”

He’s turned him right and round about
As any father’s son.
He’s reminded of a leaden key
His father left with him.
His father left a meagre key
Just before he died,
He bade him keep it secretly
Till he was most in need.

The forth he went, these nobles left
All drinking in the hall.
And he has found a bolted door
Below the castle wall.
The key has opened up the door
Wherein lies all his hope,
But where he thought to find good gold
There stood a gibbet and rope.

Under the rope was placed a stool
All covered o’er with dust,
The father had condemned the son,
His sentence it was just.
The son he sighed, stood on the stool,
Never a word he spoke
But as he jumped to eternity
Down the gibbet broke.

It broke and cracked above his head,
He landed on the floor.
And round him rolling, shining bright,
Was a hidden golden store.

“Oft have I gone with bitter cold feet,
Likewise with legs all bare,
And many days walked at these gates
With sad sorrow and care.
But now my sorrow’s past and gone,
Joy has all returned,
Now that I have gold enough
To buy my lands again.”

As he galloped back through town,
He jubilantly crowed,
And he’s called out before them all
The nurse from out her house.

“Come here, come here my nurse,” he said,
“I’ll pay you bread and wine.
Seas ebb and flow as they will,
Yet I’m the Lord of Linne.”

He’s gone up the Gallowgate port
In tatty hose and gown,
But he was carried by fifteen lords
When he came back down.