King Henry, My Son- Margaret Scott (Cum) c.1860
[From English Traditional Songs and Carols edited by Lucy Etheldred Broadwood, 1908 with music. The text and some notes follow. This is a composite text Miss Lattimer who apparently is the sister of Robert Lattimer (1825-1901) the source of the 1907 version published in JFSS by Broadwood. The melodies of both versions are identical.
R. Matteson 2018]
KING HENRY, MY SON (p. 96).
Miss M. B. Lattimer, living in Carlisle, noted this fine air, which she learned in childhood, some time before 1868, from Margaret Scott (now Mrs. Thorburn), a young servant in her home. The singer came from Wigton, in Cumberland, and had learnt the ballad from her father, who died when she was nine years old. Miss Lattimer recollected only a part of the words, and completed the ballad from another version, giving the three verses used in the harmonised arrangement. Recently, however, Miss Lattimer has come into communication with the singer, and received from her the following interesting set of words:—
KING HENRY, MY SON.
"Where have you been wandering, King Henry, my son?
Where have you been wandering, my pretty one?"
"I've been away hunting, mother, make my bed soon.
For I'm sick to the heart, and fain would lie down."
"What had you to your dinner, King Henry, my son?
What had you to your dinner, my pretty one t"
"A dish of small fishes, mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm weary, weary wandering, and fain would lie down."
"What colour was the fishes, King Henry, my son?
What colour was the fishes, my pretty one?"
"They were black bellies and speckled bellies, mother, make my bed soon,
"For I'm sick to the heart, and fain would lie down."
"I'm afraid you are poisoned, King Henry, my son,
I'm afraid you are poisoned, my pretty one!"
"Yes, mother, I'm poisoned, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to the heart, and fain would lie down."
"What will you leave your mother, King Henry, my son?
What will you leave your mother, my pretty one?"
"I will leave her my all— and make my bed soon,
For I'm weary, weary wandering, and fain would lie down."
"What will you leave your brother, King Henry, my son?
What will you leave your brother, my pretty one?"
"There's the best pair of horses, mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm sick to the heart, and fain would lie down."
"What will you leave your sweetheart, King Henry, my son?
What will you leave your sweetheart, my pretty one?"
"I will leave her my braces to hang her upon a tree;
For the poisoning of my greyhounds, and the poisoning of me."