madsviande

… or, the Ballad of Tranet and Young Tran Lin

“Why do we cast our eyes so low to pass the hawthorn tree, and look not at the barrow mounds? What daren't we to see?”

O child of mine, so wise to ask! Your mother, father tell — at first with how we met, and where, to understand it well.

What do you know of Carterhaugh, adorned with thorn and rose? Your grandpa's land, until the Queen of Fairies' court she chose.

And who was posted at the gate to keep out any maid? Your father, Young Tam Lin so-called, a stolen fairy shade.

My own pa loved his daughter true; I was his only heir, and all and sundry of me knew no grandchild would I bear.

In earthly courts, my father's knights all jostled for his throne. The court of fey kept me at bay from woods that I had known.

With kirtle tied above my knee, to Carterhaugh I flew, and plucked one rose. Tam Lin arrived as soon as I picked two.

A rose, a second rose I stole, and ere I could break more, Tam Lin appeared. “O maiden bold, what do you break it for?

“Have you not heard the Fairy Queen has taken Carterhaugh? Have you not heard no virgin girl may trespass on her law?”

“I've heard this queen of yours' decree, I'll wander at my leave; but if no maiden here may pass? My maidenhead relieve.”

Your father, young and handsome, laughed and took it in his stride; and he lay in the garden green as I lay down beside.

“O Janet, dear, I'm well surprised what lies beneath your skirt!” “My young Tam Lin, as well am I beneath your breech and shirt.”

Your father long ago had fallen injured from his horse, whence rescued him the Fairy Queen with ill-intent, of course.

She valued well his handsome looks. She took him for her toy. She asked him “What can magic give my captive darling boy?”

“You'll give me nothing, Fairy Queen, not even bread to break. But if I must receive your boon, I beg of you to take.

“O! take from me, O! wicked queen, the burden of my breast. O! Take the form I daily bind and leave a flattened chest.”

She laughed, and granted as he wished. She played her subtle game. She took them both and sewed him up, and took from him his name.

Four and twenty counted maids a-dancing in the grass; among them went your mother, I was pale as any glass,

And four and twenty counted knights a-playing each at chess; among them came your ma, ill-fit into my loosest dress,

As, once I left the garden, nine were months until your birth; for where we laid, the fairy law negated laws of earth.

“My daughter dear, I know not how,” my father murmured mild; “What miracle has come to pass that you now go with child?

“And who among my court of knights now playing at their game has wrought this child? Who soon enough will give the baby's name?”

“No earthly knight the father is, nor playing here at chess. My love is fairy. Were he not, I'd love him still no less.”

With kirtle tied above my knee, I flew to Carterhaugh in search of Young Tam Lin again where he kept fairy law.

“Tam Lin,” I cried. “I break your rose, the roses of your queen!” Your father stepped at once into my father's wooded green.

“If you won't marry me, Tam Lin, I'll kill this babe inside, and know this, Tam Lin, I will only be any mortal's bride.”

Your father wept. “My Janet, please be cautious. If you dare defy the Fairy Queen, then heed my every word with care.

“Near seven years the Fairy Queen has kept me here to dwell; at end of seven years, I'll be her sacrifice to hell.

“On Hallowe'en, the fairy court begin their midnight ride. Oh, Janet, go to Mile's Cross and 'till that time abide.”

“How shall I find you, Young Tam Lin, when all the horses go? How shall I see you in the night? Or how my true love know?”

“Allow the black-coat horses pass, and then let pass the brown; then find me on the milk-white steed and pull me quickly down.

“They'll turn me in your arms, my love, into a wild boar, A squawking, flapping fowl, and then a viper, and yet more.

“They'll turn me in your grasp into an iron burning hot; if you your true love wish to win, my Janet, fear it not.”

And so I stole to Mile's Cross the night of Hallow's Eve; The steeds of black, and then the brown I watched them come and leave.

At last, the white-coat horse; at last, Tam Lin all bound in rope; at last I seized your father dear and held on to my hope.

I held onto your father, while he gave me every fright; each wild beast, each writhing thing. I held him all the night.

And never did he harm me then, though clawed and toothed he turn; the red-hot iron in my arms left me without a burn.

At last your father, mortal, woke to see the break of day; we fled at once and here remain in love this very day.

But as we fled, we heard a screech: my theft had been found out. The Fairy Queen was wroth with us and after us did shout:

“O! Janet, shame! How foul a face! What ill death may you die! My sacrifice, my bonny knight, tonight has slipped me by!

“O! had I known, Tam Lin, what fool tonight you'd make of me, I would have met your eyes with mine and turned you to a tree!”

You see, my child, among the hawthorns go the fairy folk; beneath the barrow mounds, their queen to this day still does sulk.

My father, rest in peace, he gave his rule at last to me; and one day, Tom and Janet Linden's rule goes on to thee.

But should you wish to see that day, be careful where you look; the Fairy Queen awaits your eyes to take back what I took.

---

Author's Note

This transed pastiche of the famous Scottish Borders folk tale of Janet, or Margaret, and Young Tam Lin is my own text, though it is intended to be sung to Anais Mitchell's rendition of Tam Lin (Child Ballad 39), linked below. Naturally I referenced several of the classic transcriptions of the child ballad, very closely in parts; it is my full intention to be respectful to the tradition in which I participate.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p3IPaHk07Pg

It is possible to read this narrative any number of ways. My preferred reading, captured here but rising naturally from the original texts, is that Janet knew what she wanted and risked greatly to get just that. I admire Janet's independence, agency, daring, reproductive autonomy, and eventual success. Gender norms and gendered power are not static; by the backwards mores of a 2021 audience, exposed to fairy tales primarily through a Disney-fied Puritan lens, the happy ending granted to Janet has become surprising. Though it is probably ahistoric to call a ballad that dates back at least as early as 1549 'feminist,' it is historically astute to note that prohibitions on premarital sex and abortion are relatively-recent advances of patriarchy onto women's reproductive power.

Of course, that Tam Lin has apparently done this to many young women in the original child ballads, and Janet is merely the last and the most successful, does undermine that reading. I have chosen to de-emphasize it in my telling, but I won't deny that it's there.

In this context where the actions taken by Janet among the differing versions of this child ballad have become transgressive to a degree it surely cannot have been when it was first being composed, I have chosen to compound these transgressions. I've long wanted to write the story of a trans Janet wresting determination of her sex, her in-fertility, and her father's (feudal — oh well!) estate from the waxing patriarchal forces which seek to determine them for her, by forming her family where she chooses, and in the process rescuing a trans Tom Linden, who has himself wrested determination of his sex from within captivity under a forced name. Now I have done it, so there.