Mill o Tiftie's Annie

Chris Miles: On Autumn Harvest ah08: Old Songs & Bothy Ballads: There's Bound to be a Row. Recorded at the Fife Traditional Singing Festival May 2009.

Annie, daughter of a well-to-do miller loses her heart to a handsome trumpeter Andrew Lammie in the service of Lord Fyvie. Her father does not approve of such a match, she is mistreated by her family and eventually killed by her brother while Andrew is away in Edinburgh. When Peter Buchan printed his Gleanings in 1828 he referred to this as 'one of the greatest favourites of the people of Aberdeenshire' and it remained popular into the 20th century with ten variants of tune and text in the Greig-Duncan collection. Chris sings a much condensed version but broadsheet copies of the ballad (Child 233) were printed in great numbers in the 1800s and in these there are as many as 50 or more verses.

1: At Mill o Tifty lived a man,
In the neigbourhood o Fyvie;
And he had a lovely daughter fair,
And they caad her bonnie Annie.

2: Her hair was fair, her eyes were blue,
Her cheeks as red as ony;
Her countenance was fair tae view,
And they caad her bonnie Annie.

3: Lord Fyvie had a trumpeter,
Whase name was Andrew Lammie;
And he had the airt tae win the hert,
O Tifty's bonnie Annie.

4: Her mother caad her tae the door,
Saying, "Come and look, my Annie;
Did ye ever see a prettier man,
Than the trumpeter o Fyvie?"

5: But nothing she said but sighing sore,
'Twas alas for bonnie Annie;
For she couldnae own her hert wis won,
By the trumpeter o Fyvie.

6: "My love comes in tae my bedside,
My love will last beyond me;
For love so oppressed my tender breast,
And love will waste my body."
7: "Noo Andrew's gaun tae Edinburgh toun,
Just for a while tae leave ye."
"Ye'll find me deid and buried deep,
In the green kirkyaird o Fyvie."

8: Her faither struck her wondrous sore,
And likewise did her mother;
But the hardest blows she had tae bear,
Were from her cruel brother.

9: Her brother struck her hard and sore,
Wi muckle blows and mony;
Aye, he broke her back on the temple stane,
The temple stane o Fyvie.

10: "O mither mak tae me a bed,
And lay me face tae Fyvie;
And I will lie and I will die,
For my true love Andrew Lammie."

11: Noo Andrew's back fae Edinburgh toun,
Wi muckle grief and sorrow;
"My love she died for me last night,
I will die for her tomorrow."

c p 2010 Autumn Harvest :