Binnorie
Once upon a time there were two king's daughters who lived in a bower near the bonny
mill dams of Binnorie. And Sir William came wooing the eldest and won her love, and
plighted troth with glove and with ring. But after a time he looked upon the youngest,
with her cherry cheeks and golden hair, and his love went out to her until he cared no
longer for the eldest one. So she hated her sister for taking away Sir William's love, and
day by day her hate grew and grew and she plotted and she planned how to get rid of her.
So one fine morning, fair and clear, she said to her sister, "Let us go and see
our father's boats come in at the bonny mill stream of Binnorie." So they went there
hand in hand. And when they came to the river's bank the youngest got upon a stone to
watch for the beaching of the boats. And her sister, coming behind her, caught her round
the waist and dashed her into the rushing mill stream of Binnorie.
"Oh sister, sister, reach me your hand!" she cried, as she floated away,
"and you shall have half of all I've got or shall get."
"No, sister, I'll reach you no hand of mine, for I am the heir to all your land.
Shame on me if I touch her hand that has come 'twixt me and my own heart's love."
"Oh sister, oh sister, then reach me your glove!" she cried, as she floated
further away, "and you shall have your William again."
"Sink on," cried the cruel princess, "no hand or glove of mine you'll
touch. Sweet William will be all mine when you are sunk beneath the bonny mill stream of
Binnorie." And she turned and went home to the king's castle.
And the princess floated down the mill stream, sometimes swimming and sometimes
sinking, until she came near the mill. Now the miller's daughter was cooking that day, and
needed water for her cooking. And as she went to draw it from the stream, she saw
something floating towards the mill dam, and she called out, "Father! father! draw
your dam. There's something white -- a merrymaid or a milk white swan -- coming down the
stream." So the miller hastened to the dam and stopped the heavy cruel mill wheels.
And then they took out the princess and laid her on the bank.
Fair and beautiful she looked as she lay there. In her golden hair were pearls and
precious stones; you could not see her waist for her golden girdle, and the golden fringe
of her white dress came down over her lily feet. But she was drowned, drowned!
And as she lay there in her beauty a famous harper passed by the mill dam of Binnorie,
and saw her sweet pale face. And though he traveled on far away he never forgot that face,
and after many days he came back to the bonny mill stream of Binnorie. But then all he
could find of her where they had put her to rest were her bones and her golden hair. So he
made a harp out of her breast bone and her hair, and traveled on up the hill from the mill
dam of Binnorie, until he came to the castle of the king her father.
That night they were all gathered in the castle hall to hear the great harper: king and
queen, their daughter and son, Sir William, and all their court. And first the harper sang
to his old harp, making them joy and be glad, or sorrow and weep just as he liked. But
while he sang he put the harp he had made that day on a stone in the hall. And presently
it began to sing by itself, low and clear, and the harper stopped and all were hushed.
And this was what the harp sung:
Oh yonder sits my father, the king,
Binnorie, oh Binnorie;
And yonder sits my mother, the queen;
By the bony mill dams o' Binnorie.
And yonder stands my brother Hugh,
Binnorie, oh Binnorie;
And by him, my William, false and true;
By the bonny mill dams o' Binnorie.
Then they all wondered, and the harper told them how he had seen the princess lying
drowned on the bank near the bonny mill dams o' Binnorie, and how he had afterwards made
this harp out of her hair and breast bone. Just then the harp began singing again, and
this was what it sang out loud and clear:
And there sits my sister who drownèd me
By the bonny mill dams o' Binnorie.
And the harp snapped and broke, and never sang more.
Joseph Jacobs: English Fairy Tales. London 1898, Nr. 9. (AT 780, England)
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