Scottish Country Dancing Dictionary

Mill Of Tifty's Annie

Scottish Song

Mill Of Tifty's Annie (also known as "Old Scottish Ballad Of Andrew Lammie") is a song written by an anonymous Scottish poet sometime between 1870 and 1885.

This song is about a lady called Agnes Smith who died in 1678 of a broken heart after she was prevented from seeing her lover, a man called Andrew Lammie, the trumpeter of Fyvie.

Fyvie (pronounced "five ee") is a village in the Formartine area of Aberdeenshire, Scotland, less than 2 miles south of The Mill Of Tifty. Fyvie lies alongside the River Ythan and Fyvie castle (about halfway between Fyvie and Tifty) is reputed to have been built by King William the Lyon in the early thirteenth century. Fyvie castle was the site of an open-air court held by King Robert the Bruce and home to the future King Charles I as a child.

The story goes: In the 1600s the trumpeter at Fyvie castle was a man called Andrew Lammie who fell in love with Agnes Smith, the local miller of Tifty's daughter. Agnes' parents did not approve of Andrew Lammie and so her father locked her into her room to prevent them from meeting each other. Also, learning that Andrew and Agnes were meeting in secret, the Laird who himself wanted the girl as his mistress had Andrew seized and sent in slavery to the West Indies.

Many years later Andrew escaped and returned to Scotland to look for his beloved Agnes, only to discover that she had died, heartbroken, shortly after he had been taken abroad. Andrew also soon died, heartbroken, but before his death swore that the sound of a trumpet would foretell the death of every laird of Fyvie as a reminder of the terrible injustice he had suffered.

Soon after Andrew's death the haunting of Fyvie began and for many years afterwards the trumpet would be heard the night before the death of a laird. Fyvie Castle is still said to be haunted by the ghost of a phantom trumpeter and one of the towers at Fyvie castle still shows a trumpeter cut from stone.

As you would expect of such an old story, certain elements of the story are considered fanciful, and many different versions of the ballad now exist. Bellow is one of the most popular.

Related Scottish Country Dances

The Mill Of Tifty

Mill Of Tifty's Annie - Or Old Scottish Ballad Of Andrew Lammie

At Mill of Tifty lived a man,
In the neighbourhood of Fyvie-
He had a lovely daughter fair
Was called bonnie Annie.

Her bloom was like the springing flower
That hails the rosy morning,
With innocence and graceful mein
Her beauteous face adorning.

Lord Fyvie had a Trumpeter,
Whose name was Andrew Lammie-
He had the art to gain the heart
Of Mill of Tifty's Annie.

Proper he was, both young and gay,
His like was not in Fyvie,
Nor was there ane that could compare
With this same Andrew Lammie.

And Fyvie he rode by the door,
Where lived Tifty's Annie;
His trumpeter rode him before,
Even this same Andrew Lammie.

Her mother called her to the door,
Come here to me my Annie-
Did e'er you see a prettier man
Than the trumpeter of Fyvie?

Nothing she said, but sighing sore,
Alas for bonnie Annie;
She durst not own her heart was won
By the trumpeter of Fyvie.

At night when all went to their bed,
All slept full soon but Annie;
Love so oppressed her tender breast,
And love will waste her body.

Love comes in at my bed-side,
And love lies down beyond me-
Love so opprest my tender breast,
And love will waste my body.

The first time me and my love
Were in the woods of Fyvie,
His lovely form and speech so soft
Soon gained the heart of Annie.

He called me mistress, I said no,
I'm Tifty's bonnie Annie;
With apples sweet he did me treat,
And kisses soft and many.

It's up and down in Tifty's glen,
Where the burn rins clear and bonnie
I've often gane to meet my love,
My bonnie Andrew Lammie.

But now alas! her father heard
That the trumpeter of Fyvie,
Had had the art to gain the heart
Of Mill of Tifty's Annie.

Her father soon a letter wrote
And sent it on to Fyvie,
To tell his daughter was bewitched
By his servant Andrew Lammie.

Then up the stair his trumpeter
He called soon and shortly,
Pray tell me soon what's this you've done
To Tifty's bonnie Annie.

Woe be to Mill of Tifty's pride,
For it has ruined many-
They'll not haven't said that she should wed
The trumpeter of Fyvie.

In wicked art I had no part,
Nor therein am I canny;
True love alone the heart has won
Of Tifty's bonnie Annie.

Where shall I find a boy so kind
That will carry a letter canny;
Who will run to Tifty's town-
Give it to my love Annie.

Tifty he has daughters three
Who all are wonderous bonnie;
But ye'll ken her o'er a' the rest,
Give that to bonnie Annie.

Its up and down in Tifty's glen,
Where the burn rins clear and bonnie,
There wilt thou come and I'll attend,
My love I long to see thee.

Thou mayest come to the brig of Shigh,
And there I'll come and meet thee;
It's there we will renew our love
Before I go and leave you.

My love I go to Edinburgh town,
And for a while must leave thee;
She sighed sore, and said no more,
But I wish that I were with you.

I will be true and constant too,
To thee my Andrew Lammie,
But my bridal bed will then be made
In the green church-yard of Fyvie.

The time is gone and now comes on,
My dear that I must leave thee-
If longer here I should appear,
Mill of Tifty he would see me.

I'll buy to thee a bridal gown,
My love I'll buy it bonnie-
But I'll be dead ere ye come back
To see your bonnie Annie.

If ye'll be true and constant too,
As I am Andrew Lammie;
I shall ye wed when I come back
To see the lands of Fyvie.

I now for ever bid adieu
To thee my Andrew Lammie;
Ere ye come back I will be laid
In the green church-yard of Fyvie.

He hied him to the head of the house,
To the house top of Fyvie,
He blew his trumpet loud and shrill,
It was heard at Mill of Tifty.

Her father locked the door at night,
Laid by the keys fu' canny,
And when he heard the trumpet sound,
Said, your cow is lowing Annie.

My father dear, I pray forbear,
And reproach not your Annie-
I'd rather hear that cow low,
Than all the kye in Fyvie.

I would not for my braw new gown,
And all your gifts so many,
That it was told in Fyvie land
How cruel you are to Annie.

But if you strike me I will cry,
And gentlemen will hear me-
Lord Fyvie will be riding by,
And he'll come in and see me.

At the same time the lord came in,
He said what ails thee Annie?
It's all for love now I must die,
For bonnie Andrew Lammie.

Pray Mill of Tifty give consent,
And let your daughter marry;
It will be with some higher match
Than the trumpeter of Fyvie.

If she was come of as high a kind
As she's advanced in beauty,
I would take her unto myself,
And make her my own lady.

Fyvie lands are far and wide,
And they are wonderous bonnie;
But I would not leave my own true love
For all the lands in Fyvie.

Her Father struck her wonderous sore,
As also did her mother,
Her sisters also did her scorn-
But woe be to her brother.

Her brother struck her wonderous sore,
With cruel strokes and many;
He broke her back on the hall door,
For loving Andrew Lammie.

Alas! my father and my mother dear,
Why so cruel to your Annie?
My heart was broken first by love,
My brother has broke my body.

O my mother dear make me my bed,
And lay my face to Fyvie;
Thus will I life, and thus will die,
For my dear Andrew Lammie.

Ye neighbours hear, both far and near,
And pity Tifty's Annie,
Who dies for love of one poor lad,
For bonnie Andrew Lammie.

No kind of vice e'er stained my life,
Or hurt my virgin honour;
My youthful heart was won by love,
But death will me exoner.

Her mother then she made her bed,
And laid her face to Fyyie;
Her tender heart it soon did break.
And ne'er say Andrew Lammie.

Lord Fyvie he did wring his hands,
Said, Alas! for Tifty's Annie;
The fairest flower cut down by him,
That ever sprung in Fyvie.

Woe be to Mill of Tifty's pride,
He might have let them marry;
I should have given both to live
Within the lands of Fyvie.

Her father sorely now laments
The loss of his dear Annie;
And wishes he had given consent
To wed with Andrew Lammie.

When Andrew hame frae Edinburgh came
With muckle grief and sorrow-
My love is dead for me to-day,
I'll die for her to-morrow.

Now I will run to Tifty's den,
Where the burn runs clear and bonnie-
With tears I'll view the brig of Shigh,
Where I parted with my Annie.

Mill Of Tifty's Annie Song Video

Mill Of Tifty's Annie Song - Information Video
The Mill Of Tifty Ballad.
First Stanzas Of Andrew Lammie, Mill Of Tifty's Annie, From Glen Collection Of Printed Music, Scottish Ballads, Combination Of Pages 137 and 138, c. 1829

Dance information licensed under this Creative Commons Licence 3.0.
Text from this original Old Scottish Ballad Of Andrew Lammie article on Wikipedia.
Image copyright (cropped) under this Creative Commons Licence 4.0.
Image copyright (cropped) under this Creative Commons Licence 4.0.

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