Blue Bells of Scotland is an old folk song which, like many, has multiple versions springing from different eras.   Although histories vary, most now say that the song started off as the poetry of a woman named Anne MacVicar Grant, or, in the parlance of another age, Mrs. Grant of Laggan.  Born in Glasgow in February of 1755, to a British soldier stationed alternately in America and Scotland,  Annie MacVicar married a Scottish minister in 1779.  Some 22 years later, she was left widowed and penniless while pregnant with the youngest of 8 surviving children.  (There were 12 altogether.)  In a classic story of pluck, she supported her children by publishing the poems she had written over the years.

One of these was entitled Oh, Where, Tell Me Where?  It was written for the departure of the Marquis of Huntly, with his regiment, to Holland in 1799.  (My research suggests he was a member of the Gordon Highlanders, but not what his connection to Mrs. Grant might have been.)

Oh! where, tell me where, is your Highland laddie gone?
Oh! where, tell me where is your Highland laddie gone?
He’s gone with streaming banners where noble deeds are done.
And my sad heart will tremble till he come safely home,
He’s gone with streaming banners where noble deeds are done.
And my sad heart will tremble till he come safely home.

Oh! where, tell me where, did your Highland laddie stay?
Oh! where, tell me where, did your Highland laddie stay?
He dwelt among the holly trees, beside the rapid Spey,
And many a blessing followed him the day he went away,
He dwelt beneath the holly trees, beside the river Spey,
And many a blessing followed him the day he went away.

Oh! what, tell me what, does your Highland laddie wear?
Oh! what, tell me what, does your Highland laddie wear?
A bonnet with a lofty plume, the gallant badge of war.
And a plaid across the manly breast, that yet shall wear a star,
A bonnet with a lofty plume, the gallant badge of war,
And a plaid across the manly breast, that yet shall wear a star.

Suppose, ah, suppose, that some cruel, cruel wound
Should pierce your Highland laddie, and all your hopes confound?
The pipe would play a cheering march, the banners round him fly,
The spirit of a Highland chief would lighten in his eye,
The pipe would play a cheering march, the banners round him fly,
And for his king and country dear, with pleasure would he die.

But I will hope to see him yet in Scotland’s bonnie bounds.
But I will hope to see him yet in Scotland’s bonnie bounds ;
His native land of liberty shall nurse his glorious wounds,
While wide through all our Highland hills his war-like name resounds,
His native land of liberty shall nurse his glorious wounds,
While wide through all our Highland hills his war-like name resounds.

The original words of Mrs. Grant’s poetry have, over the years, been used for the song, and at times replaced with others.  From the Scots Musical Museum, a collection of 600 Scottish folk songs, we get a very different version:

O, fair maid, whose aught that bonny bairn
O, fair maid, whose aught that bonny bairn ;
It is a sodg-er’s son, the said, that’s lately gone to Spain,
Te dilly dan, te dilly dan, te dilly, dilly dan

O, fair maid, what was that Rodger’s name?
O, fair maid, what was that Rodger’s name ?
In troth a’tweel, I never speir’d—the mair I was to blame,
Te dilly dan, te dilly dan, te dilly, dilly dan

 O, fair maid, what had that sodger on?
O, fair maid, what had that sodger on?
A scarlet coat laid o’er wi’ gold, a waistcoat o’ the game.,
Te dilly dan, te dilly dan, te dilly, dilly dan

O, fair maid, what if he should be slain?
O, fair maid, what if he should be slain?
The king would lose a brave sodger, and I a pretty num
Te dilly dan, te dilly dan, te dilly, dilly dan

O, fair maid, what if he should come hame?
O, fair maid, what if he should come hame?
The parish priest should marry us, the clerk should say amen
Te dilly dan, te dilly dan, te dilly, dilly dan

O, fair maid, would ye that sodger ken?
O, fair maid, would ye that sodger ken?
In troth a’tweel, an’ that I wad, among ten thousand men.
Te dilly dan, te dilly dan, te dilly, dilly dan

The lyrics better known today follow a similar pattern of question and answer, regarding where he’s gone, where he dwells, what he wears, and what if he dies:

Oh where, tell me where is your highland laddie gone?
Oh where, tell me where is your highland laddie gone?
He’s gone with streaming banners where noble deeds are done
And it’s oh! in my heart I wish him safe at home.

Oh where, tell me where did your highland laddie dwell?
Oh where, tell me where did your highland laddie dwell?
He dwelt in bonnie Scotland where blooms the sweet bluebell
And it’s oh! in my heart I love my laddie well.

Oh what, tell me what, does your Highland laddie wear?
Oh what, tell me what, does your Highland laddie wear?
A bonnet with a lofty plume, and on his breast a plaid
And it’s oh, in my heart I lo’ed my Highland lad

Oh what, tell me what if your highland lad be slain?
Oh what, tell me what if your highland lad be slain?
Oh no, true love will be his guide and bring him safe again
For it’s oh! my heart would break if my highland lad were slain.

There are many slight variations on these lyrics, and some larger ones.  For instance, through the years, the Highland laddie changes his clothes:

O what lassie what does your heelin’ laddie wear?
O what lassie what does your heelin’ laddie wear?
A scarlett coat and bonnet wi’ bonnie yellow hair
And there’s none in the world can wi’ my sweet love compare

What clothes, in what clothes is your Highland laddie clad?
‘His bonnet’s of the Saxon green, his waistcoat’s of the plaid ;
And it’s oh! in my heart, that I love my Highland lad.

But the ending follows the pattern set out in previous incarnations:

Suppose, oh, suppose that your Highland lad should die?
The bagpipes shall play over him, I’ll lay me down and cry;
And it’s oh! in my heart, that I wish he may not die!

O what will you claim for your constancy tae him?
O what will you claim for your constancy tae him?
I’ll claim a priest tae wed us and a clerk tae say amen
And I’ll ne’er part again from my bonnie heelin’ man

A later version references George II and the Napoleonic Wars, which ran from 1803-1815, after the Scots Musical Museum, Mrs. Jordan, and Mrs. Grant versions were printed:

In addition to the plethora of verses, the title has also changed over the years, being known also as The New Highland Lad; O Where, Tell Me Where, and The Bells of Scotland. 

The source of the lyrics is largely undisputed; there’s a little more controversy over the origins of the melody.  The North Country Chorister,published in 1802 by Ritson (who does not appear, in all my research, to have a first name), printed this song as The New Highland Lad, which started with the words “There was a Highland laddie courted a lowland maid.”  The second verse of this version was “Oh where and oh where does your Highland laddie dwell?”

The song was brought to prominence by a Mrs. Jordan.  She was actually neither a Mrs. nor a Jordan, but Dorothea Bland, born near Waterford in 1762.  She led a colorful life, in ironic contrast to her name, moving from her training as a milliner to life on the stage, and having fourteen children, ten of them with William, Duke of Clarence/ King William IV, although they never married.  But she is often remembered for singing Blue Bells of Scotland, at Drury Lane around 1800, set to what she called her own composition.  Others describe it as a modified version of the original melody.  Ritson later noted on copies of his version that, “The song has lately been introduced upon the stage by Mrs. Jordan, who knew neither the words nor the tune.” 

The 1853 edition of The Scots Musical Museum states that the words were set to a ‘modern’ Scottish air, but gives no indication of which one, or this modern air’s relation to either Ritson’s or Mrs. Jordan’s melody.

In Immortal Songs of Camp and Field, published in 1898,Charles Mackay and Sir Henry Rowley Bishop debate whether it is actually a Scottish air or an older English melody from Sussex, discovered by a Mr. Fitzgerald, which began with the words “Oh, I have been forester this many a long day.”  This Sussex melody has several bars similar to the second half of Blue Bells.  Sir Henry wrote on October 22, 1852, that Mrs. Jordan based her melody on the one discovered by Mr. Fitzgerald, but altered it to accommodate her own vocal range. 

Another history of the melody of Blue Bells of Scotland tells of George Thomson, born in 1757, who directed the first Edinburgh Music Festival.  As a violinist and lover of Scottish music, he disliked the melodies of some of Scotland’s airs.  Seeking better music, he forwarded these airs on to Franz Joseph Haydn, in 1799, who worked on some 200 of them, including Blue Bells of Scotland. 

Blue Bells of Scotlandon youtube: although there are dozens of versions, I have chosen this one as a fairly simple piece that sticks very close to the traditional melody.

Tomorrow, the song and Arthur Pryor

But it means I have been shamefully remiss and dropped a few things I’m juggling.  So, first, my apologies to Jennifer for the delay, and second, my thanks to Jennifer for her review at her book blog, Rundpinne.  Jennifer keeps a very active blog covering a variety of genres in both fiction and non-fiction.  Recent reviews include cookbooks, a book on digital photography, a memoir on dealing with a child’s illness, and a novel that delves deep into two women’s decisions about pregnancies.  (This is from another Minnesota author, Joy DeKok, whose website I will definitely be visiting.)  Jennifer’s blog is well worth following if you love reading.

Jennnifer posted her review of my book on December 4, giving it 5 coffee cups (equivalent to stars, of course!)

Some excerpts from her review:

“The story line sounded promising and Laura Vosika does not disappoint….  

A delightfully intricate tale of time travel, life lessons, challenges of faith, and redemption…. 

I found the story moving, witty, and captivating. This was indeed a page-turner and I look forward to finishing the trilogy. I highly recommend this novel to anyone. It makes for a fantastic read and would make an excellent gift.”

Now seems like a perfect time to add a comment on the characters to whom people are drawn, and why.  Jennifer says in her blog that she is more drawn to Niall, because he actually cares what happens to people, and thinks through the effects of his own actions on others.  Among the members of my writing group, Night Writers, there are those who prefer Niall– because he’s a better man, because he’s all we hope for in a man or hope our sons would grow up to be– and those who prefer Shawn. 

Why would someone prefer a self-centered, drunken, gambling womanizer?  One member of my group said, tongue in cheek, because he’s taking notes on Shawn’s methods!  A member of the audience at Tuesday night’s talk also brought this issue up, noting how Shawn got all of the attention that night.  She thinks it is partly because rogues fascinate us, as they get into all sorts of scrapes we would never dream of.  They live lives that sound fun, exciting and daring, but which our own better natures and common sense prevent us from emulating.  We live vicariously and safely through literature’s rogues.  And partly, Robin said, we love rogues because we can look at someone like Shawn and feel better about ourselves, seeing we’re really pretty decent people after all, in comparison.  I think she made a good point about human nature.

I enjoy hearing people’s views on whom they prefer and why, in part because I’m pleased to find I’m conveying exactly what I’d hoped to!

The event was well-attended, with nice facilities, live music, and great food!  It was also a good chance to see some old friends.  My thanks go to all who helped make the event a success, and I am looking forward to future events.  On December 3, I will be speaking at the Author’s Tea at Osseo School District with Genny Kieley; December 8, several Night Writers will be speaking at the Maple Grove Library’s Author Talk series.

On December 12, a number of us will be in the community room at the Maple Grove Byerly’s, once again sponsoring a “Rescue an Abandoned Book” event– that means come and get them, they’re free!  Justin Knauss and I will be providing live music with guitar, harp, and flute.  I am looking forward to having a chance to pull out my alto flute, so if you’ve never heard one, stop by! 

And of course, we will be there with our books.  In addition to Eye of the Serpent, I Have Been Thinking, Blue Bells of Scotland, and Sunsets, John Stanton will have his new book available:  The Truth About Aliens, UFO’s, and All That, and I have just received a shipment of 2010 Daily Planners featuring Urquhart Castle in Scotland, which will be available. 

If you’re looking for gifts for a book lover or for yourself, stop by and take a look!

I am currently about half-way through, and finding it an absolutely fascinating story, with very realistic reactions to meeting people of another era, and vivid descriptions.  I would say Jack Finney’s strongest point of his many strong points, is his attention for detail, which really brings each scene alive.

What interested me, however, is comparing the methods of time travel in the many stories available that feature it.  H.G. Wells’ Time Machine is probably the best known.  Like H.G. Wells, Michael Crichton uses technology to transport his characters in his book Timeline. 

A second method that seems to come up routinely is witchcraft or magic.  A sorcerer is the– forgive the pun– source of the switch in time in the movie Just Visiting.  An evil witch does the same thing to her unsuspecting victim in a lesser known book, a romance, called The Gray Ghost.  My favorite childhood novel, In the Keep of Time, by Margaret J. Anderson, fits in the magic category: an ancient ruin of a Scottish keep, whose key at times glows mysteriously– and that is when the switches happen.  I think Diana Gabaldon’s beloved and popular Outlander series would also fall into this category, as the characters travel through standing stones.

Somewhere in Time, the Christopher Reeve movie set on Michigan’s Mackinac Island, relies on the concept that a man can surround himself with the elements of the past and believe himself right back into a different era.  This is the idea Jack Finney uses, although with the twist of an elaborate secret government project, based on Einstein’s theories, in which Si Morley and others like him are trained in self-hypnosis, given extensive training in the era to which they will travel, and left at sites which either are virtually as they were, or can be made, briefly, to be much as they were, in the time era to which the researchers intend to travel.

The recent and very popular Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger, has presented the most unique explanation to date: a genetic anomaly.

My own novel, Blue Bells of Scotland, ends with no real explanation as to how the switch might have occurred.  In Book 2, they explore that question, and so far, I have not seen a book that uses the same explanation they find. 

I continue to look for books on time travel, and am interested to find out what other methods have been conjured by authors.   Feel free to comment on time travel novels you’ve read or look into lots of great  Time Travel Fiction at Amazon!  Have fun!

And Bruce himself seems to have been a rather devout Catholic.  He counted among his close friends and associates Bishops Lamberton and Wishart, and Bernard de Linton, Abbot of Arbroath.  He carried the relics of both St. Columba and St. Fillan to the Battle of Bannockburn in June of 1314.   And on the morning of the main battle, Bruce started the day with Mass, his army of thousands on its knees before Maurice, the blind and barefoot abbot of Inchaffray, not only saying Mass, but receiving absolution.  The Declaration of Arbroath, sent to the Pope in 1320, compares Bruce to the Biblical figures of Joshua and Judas Maccabeus, who led their people against oppressors.  One of his unfulfilled dreams was to go on a Crusade.  Such was his wish that, though he was unable to fulfill it himself, he exhorted a promise from his closest friend, James Douglas, that, after Bruce’s death, James would take his, Bruce’s, heart on Crusade.  This James Douglas did, carrying Bruce’s heart in a silver casket. 

As to excommunication, it is a formal declaration of exclusion from the community, and within the Catholic Church typically means one is no longer allowed to partake of communion. 

For a devout Catholic, Robert Bruce had a bad knack for getting ex-communicated.  It started with the murder of John Comyn, the Red Comyn, Lord of Badenoch (yes, these were all the same man– just to be clear which of several John Comyns we’re talking about) before the altar of Greyfriars Church in 1306.  In Blue Bells of Scotland, Shawn expresses disbelief that a man should be excommunicated for killing, as it seems, to him, to be the national pastime of medieval Scotland.  And it is true that the real issue was not so much the killing, as the killing of a man on holy ground.

The thing to remember about excommunication is that it’s like drenched.  You can’t get more drenched, and you can’t get more excommunicated.  Unlike drenchings, though, excommunication does not ‘dry out.’  You remain so until it is formally lifted.  And this is why it’s an almost amusing story, that in 1317, with the former excommunication never having been lifted, and no more severe penalties to inflict, Pope John XXII once again excommunicated Bruce.  This time, however, he applied the punishment to all of Bruce’s associates, the whole of Scotland, really, and furthermore, declared that the prelates of York and London were to repeat the excommunication ceremony every single Sunday and every holy day for a whole year.  As if a drenched man might become even more drenched.

Interestingly, many sources credit the Pope’s ridiculous order as the inspiration for the Scottish nobles writing the Declaration of Arbroath, Scotland’s most famous document on a par with, and many say largely the basis for, our own Declaration of Independence. 

I wonder how Bruce or his comrades felt about all of this.  I suspect that they were strong enough in their faith in the rightness of their cause, declaring the independence that had always been theirs before Edward Longshanks invaded,  that it was little more than a source of amusement to them, although I would think it might also have saddened them, to be on the wrong side of a faith and church that they obviously valued.

A brief excerpt from Mirella’s review of Blue Bells of Scotland:

[Shawn and Niall] evolve and change in a touching, sometimes heart-wrenching manner. It is this, along with a richness of detail, that makes this story larger than life.

And, of course, please stop by her site to read the rest and see what other great novels are out there!