PR Website

Hughie Graham

No: 191; variant: 191[I]

  1. Ye dukes and lords that hunt and go Out-over moors and mountains clear, And they have taen up poor Hughie Graeme, For stealing of the bishope’s mare. Fall all the day, fall all the daudy, Fall all the day, fall the daudy O.
  2. They hae tied him hand and foot, They hae led him thro the town; The lads and lassies they all met, Cried, Hughie Graeme, ye’ve playd the loon!
  3. ‘O if that I had playd the loon, My friends of me they hae bad luck;’ With that he jumped fifteen feet, Wi his hands tied fast behind his back.
  4. Up then spoke my lady Whiteford, As she sat by the bishope’s knee; ‘Five hundred white pence I’ll give thee, If you let Hughie Graeme go free.’
  5. ‘I’ll hae nane of your hundred pense, And your presents you may lay by; For if Graeme was ten times in his coat, By my honour, Hugh shall die.’
  6. Up then spoke my lord Whiteford, As he sat by the bishope’s knee; ‘Five score of good stotts I’ll thee give, If you’ll sett Hughie Graeme but free.’
  7. ‘I’ll have none of your hundred stotts, And all your presents you may keep to yoursell; ‘For if Graeme was ten times in his coat Hugh shall die, and die he shall.’
  8. Then they hae tied him hand and foot, And they hae led [him] to the gallows high; The lads and lassies they all met, Cried, Hughie Graeme, thou art to die!
  9. Now’s he looked oer his left shoulder, All for to see what he could spy, And there he saw his father dear, Stood weeping there most bitterlie.
  10. ‘O hold your tongue now, father,’ he said, ‘And of your weeping lai’d now by; For they can rob me of my life, But they cannot rob me of the heavens high.
  11. ‘But you must give to my brother John The sword that’s bent in the middle clear, And tell him to come at twelve o clock And see me pay the bishope’s mare.
  12. ‘And you may give to my brother James The sword that’s bent in the middle brown, And tell him to come at four o clock And see his brother Hugh cut down.
  13. ‘And you may tell to Meg, my wife, The first time she comes thro the town, She was the occasion of my death And wi the bishope playd the loon.
  14. ‘And you may tell to Meg, my wife, The first time she comes thro the fair, She was the occasion of my death, And from the bishope stole the mare.’