Glimpses behind the veil of power and majesty are quite rare. All too often the ‘official’ version is the one that gets carried throughout the ages. However, every now and again, we come across something that shows us the humanity behind these great figures of history. The 16th century ballad, The Fower Maries is one of these glimpses.
The song tells the story, in first person narrative, of someone who knows they are going to be put to death in a land that is not their own land. The extraordinary aspect of this song is the huge number of versions and speculation about whom the person in the song is.

Swirling around the actual song is a huge story of political intrigue, betrayal and the small question of the destiny of 3 nations. In truth it is a sixteenth century version of Dallas meets The West Wing. Ultimately, the song reveals the cost, akin to the Greek myths, of the when the mortals dice with the Gods.
Today’s blog will try and present one of the versions of this song and introduce some of the huge back story. Later on in the week I will try and unpack the other versions, telling more of the back story and more of this fascinating song.

Mary, Queen of Scots is one of the great tragic figures of history. Her father, King James V died when she was very young. Her first husband, King Francis II of France died when she was eighteen. Her second husband, Henry, Lord Darnley was murdered. In 1567 she was forced to abdicate her throne to her very young son James. She was later executed by her cousin, Queen Elizabeth of England aged only 25. It is within this time, and the central figure of Mary that this song is mostly likely set.

The opening verse of the ballad (this version is the one recorded by Child as ballad no 173) states:

Yest’re’en the Queen had fower Marys
The nicht she’ll hae but three
There was Mary Seton and Mary Beaton,
And Mary Car-Michael and me.

Immediately as we begin the song we are faced with three names. Since the other, traditional, name for this song is Mary Hamilton it is safe to assume, is it not, that the ‘me’ in the song, belongs to Mary Hamilton.  And yet, this is where the evidence trail goes cold. Mary Seton and Mary Beaton have been historically linked to Mary, Queen of Scots as lady’s in waiting, chosen by Mary of Guise, her mother, to attend to Mary whilst she was in France. However there seems to be no link to Carmichael nor to Mary Hamilton. There is another tradition linked to this ballad which seems to feature an historical figure called Mary Hamliton. This, however is set, in eighteenth century Russia. I will look at this version later on in the week.

The other immediate aspect of the opening verse is the simply and beautifully stated indicator of loss.

In the next three verses this sense of loss, especially, death in land that is not your own is heartbreakingly expounded:

Oh little did my mother think
The day she cradled me
The lands I was to travel in
The death I was tae die.

Oh tie a napkin roon my eyen
No let me seen to die
And sent me a’wa tae my dear mother
Who’s far away o’er the sea.

But I wish I could lie in our ain kirkyard
Beneath yon old oak tree
Where we pulled the rowans and strung the gowans
My brothers and sisters and me.

So close is the sense of death to the narrator of the song that the desire to live becomes replaced by the desire to be buried beside her own, childhood church.

On reading these words I get a sense that these could apply to Mary, Queen of Scots herself. There is no historical link or even a theory that I have came across linking the two. However the inescapable sense of doom, of tragedy and the nearness of death reminds me of Mary, the exiled Queen the day before her own death, full of regrets, but slowly, painfully, reconciled to her destiny.

The final verse, almost like a last throw of the dice, offers the belief that if the thief who died with Christ on the cross can find salvation, then so can this narrator:

But why should I fear a nameless grave
When I’ve hopes for eternity
And I’ll pray that the faith o’ a dying thief
Be given through grace tae me.

The profoundly remarkable thing about this version of the ballad is that there is no mention of why this Mary, of why this narrator is to die. We hear no crime stated, no wrong doing, no murder. It is all part of the mystery. And yet, ever since this ballad appeared there has been a huge belief that it is linked to the ‘murder’ of her child, very shortly after birth.

Later on in the week I will tease out more of this story and attempt to cast light on other versions of this ballad, including possibly the most famous version sung by Joan Baez, which puts in a great deal more detail and back story. I started by painting a description of political intrigue, betrayal and Dallas meets The West Wing. This comes immediately front and centre, when we discover that the man responsible for getting poor Mary pregnant is believed to be none other than the King. The plot massively thickens.

To close part one please listen to The Corries as they sing this haunting song.