Ed de Moel

Child Ballads - Appendix

215. Rare Willie Drowned in Yarrow - Appendix

Annan Water

Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, 1833, III, 282; 1802, II, 138.

The first edition lacks stanzas 5, 6, 8, 9. Two of these were inserted "from another copy of the ballad in which the conclusion proves fortunate."

"The ballad," says Scott, "is given from tradition," for which a more precise expression would perhaps be "oral repetition." It is asserted in the Minstrelsy to be "the original words of the tune of 'Allan Water,' by which name the song is mentioned in Ramsay's Tea-Table Miscellany" ('Allan Water, or, My love Annie's very bonny,' T.T.M., vol. i, p. 105, of the Dublin edition of 1729). This assertion is not justified by any reasons, nor does it seem pertinent, if the Allan was originally the river of the ballad, to add, as the editor does, that "the Annan and the Frith of Solway, into which it falls, are the frequent scenes of tragical accidents."

A song which may pass for the original Allan Water until an earlier is produced is among the Laing broadsides (now in the possession of Lord Rosebery), No 59. There is no date or place, but it is thought to have been printed toward the end of the seventeenth century, or the beginning of the eighteenth, and probably at Edinburgh.

The title is: 'Allan Water, or, A Lover in Captivity.'[foot-note] A new song, sung with a pleasant new air.' There are three eight-line stanzas, and it be gins:

    Allan Water 's wide and deep,
and my dear Anny 's very bonny;
Wide 's the straith that lyes above 't,
if 't were mine, I 'de give it all for Anny.

Allan Cunningham says of the ballad, Songs of Scotland, II, 102: "I have heard it sung on the banks of the Annan. Like all traditional verses, there are many variations." And he cites as "from an old fragment " these couplets:

    Annan water's wading deep, [i.e. wide and]
Yet I am loth to weet my feet;
But if ye'll consent to marry me,
I'll hire a horse to carry thee.[foot-note]

It is my conviction that 'Anna Water,' in Ramsay's language, is one of the "Scots poems wrote by the ingenious before" 1800.

"By the Gatehope Slack," says Sir Walter Scott, "is perhaps meant the Gate Slack, a pass in Annandale."

1   'Annan water's wading deep,
And my love Annie 's wondrous bonny,
And I am laith she suld weet her feet,
Because I love her best of ony.
2   'Gar saddle me the bonny black,
Gar saddle sune, and make him ready,
For I will down the Gatehope- Slack,
And all to see my bonny ladye.'
3   He has loupen on the bonny black,
He stirrd him wi the spur right sairly;
But, or he wan the Gatehope-Slack,
I think the steed was wae and weary.
4   He has loupen on the bonny grey,
He rade the right gate and the ready;
I trow he would neither stint nor stay,
For he was seeking his bonny ladye.
5   O he has ridden oer field and fell,
Through muir and moss, and mony a mire;
His spurs o steel were sair to bide,
And frae her fore-feet flew the fire.
6   'Now, bonny grey, now play your part!
Gin ye be the steed that wins my deary,
Wi corn and hay ye 'se be fed for aye,
And never spur sail make you wearie.'
7   The grey was a mare, and a right good mare,
But when she wan the Annan water
She couldna hae ridden a furlong mair
Had a thousand merks been wadded at her.
8   'O boatman, boatman, put off your boat!
Put off your boat for gowden money!
I cross the druinly stream the night,
Or never mair I see my honey.'
9   'O I was sworn sae late yestreen,
And not by ae aith, but by many;
And for a' the gowd in fair Scotland
I dare na take ye through to Annie.'
10   The ride was stey, and the bottom deep,
Frae bank to brae the water pouring,
And the bonny grey mare did sweat for fear,
For she heard the water-kelpy roaring.
11   O he has poud aff his dapperpy coat,
The silver buttons glanced bonny;
The waistcoat bursted aff his breast,
He was sae full of melancholy.
12   He has taen the ford at that stream tail;
I wot he swam both strong and steady;
But the stream was broad, and his strength did fail,
And he never saw his bonny ladye!
13   'O wae betide the frush saugh wand!
And wae betide the bush of brier!
It brake into my true-love's hand,
When his strength did fail, and his limbs did tire.
14   'And wae betide ye, Annan Water,
This night that ye are a drumlie river!
For over thee I'll build a bridge,
That ye never more true love may sever.'

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