Where Gaudie Rins

Monday Moments - It's a fabulous morning, the sun is blazing and the wind is warm. 

However, not all would be finding such a day lovely. As part of my Bennachie series I'm posting what is quite a well known traditional ballad. These live on as folk songs, sometimes only a few bars of a song known to a person but just sufficient to remember a jist of the tune. I tend to forget the words of songs if they weren't learned very early on in my life - some would say it was because I failed to 'store' the words properly, or too lazy to learn them well enough when older.

This ballad is one where the tune is easy to remember and the words of the chorus quite repetitive. Sadly, it's not a cheerie song, rather a very poignant, sad one for the woman concerned. The hill range of Bennachie clearly meant a lot to her but not all for good reasons. The Lourin Fair, which is mentioned, is still held at Old Rayne on the opposite side of the valley from Bennachie. The Lourin Fair dates back around 500 years, so the song could easily be that old.

The Gaudie Burn sort of features in After Whorl: Donning Double Cloaks, Book 3 of my Celtic Fervour Series, when the armies of the amassed Celts, led by Calgach, camp around the burn. I refer to a burn being at the foot of Beinn Na Ciche, though not directly by name. The Roman army, led by Agricola, are on the other side of the valley, probably spread out as far as Old Rayne, the centre of the Roman camp being at Durno which lies only a short distance away from the Rayne area.

However, in my time-travel novel for early teens (yes, that one that's under major reconstruction again) I do name it as the Gaudie since it is a great landmark for identifying the area on the foothills of Bennachie.

Here's the song: 
Oh! Gin I Were Where Gaudie Rins 

Oh! gin I were where Gaudie rins, where Gaudie rins, where Gaudie rins,
Oh! gin I were where Gaudie rins at the fit o'Bennachie;
Oh! I should ne'er come back again, come back again, come back again,
Oh! I should ne'er come back again, your Lowland lads to see. 

I never had but twa right lads, but twa right lads, but twa right lads,
I never had but twa right lads that dearly loved me.
The teen was killed in the Lourin Fair, the Lourin Fair,  the Lourin Fair
The teen was killed in the Lourin Fair, and the ither was drooned in the Dee. 

from Wikimedia Commons

Had they gien my lovie man for man, man for man, man for man,
Had they gien my lovie man for man, or yet ae man for three,
He wudna lain sae low the day, sae low the day, sae low the day,
He wudna lain sae low the day at the foot o' yon yarn tree.

But they croodied in sae thick on him, sae thick on him, sae thick on him,
They croodied in sae thick on him, he could neither fecht nor flee.
An' wisna that a dowie day, a dowie day, a dowie day,
An' wisna that a dowie day, a dowie day for me?

The Dee was flowin' frae bank tae bank,  frae bank tae bank, frae bank tae bank,
The Dee was flowin' frae bank tae bank, when my lovie dreed his dree. 
An' wisna that a dowie day, a dowie day, a dowie day,
An' wisna that a dowie day, a dowie day for me?

He bocht for me a braw new goon, a braw new goon, a braw new goon, 
He bocht for me a braw new goon, and ribbons tae busk it wi'! 
An' I bocht for him the linen fine, the linen fine, the linen fine,  
An' I bocht for him the linen fine, his winding sheet tae be.

And noo this twice I've been a bride, I've been a bride, I've been a bride, 
And noo this twice I've been a bride, but a wife I'll never be. 
Oh, gin I were where the Gaudie rins, where the Gaudie rins, where the Gaudie rins,
Oh, gin I were where the Gaudie rins, at the fit o' Bennachie.

I've only managed to find this Youtube video where Old Blind Dogs play the song, but it isn't the best quality, though it might give you an idea of the tune.

( http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Irelandbrae_trig_-_geograph.org.uk_-_73442.jpg?uselang=en-gb)

Celtic Fervour Series Book 1,   Book 2,  Book 3




Slainthe!