Lord Lovel- Richards (NH) 1943 Flanders H
[From Flanders; Ancient Ballads; 1966, version G.
R. Matteson 2014]
Lord Lovel
(Child 75)
Phillips Barry in British Ballads from Maine, 145-47, gives a good history of this song, telling of its popularity among the nineteenth-century printers and the many uses it served for political parody and music hall gaiety. The American versions which are known wherever ballads are sung almost all stem from the same tradition as Child H, an 1846 London broadside. American printers reproduced texts from this tradition throughout the period between the Mexican and Civil Wars. The Flanders versions are in no way exceptional and are much what one would expect to find. As with texts from other areas, the original name of the church, St. Pancras (see E), has undergone radical modification, but all in all proximity to print has held variation to a minimum. The tune to "Lord Lovel" is also consistent. In South Carolina Ballads (Cambridge, Mass., 1928), 121, Reed Smith comments that "the difference between reading [Lord Lovel] as a poem and singing it is the difference between tragedy and comedy." The use of a tune that is too light for the story no doubt accounts for the tact that parodies have turned up in Maine, Vermont, Virginia, West Virginia, and Missouri, among other places, in this country (see Coffin, 79, for a bibliography) and in Scotland (see Greig and Keith, 57) abroad. Bibliographical references can be had in Coffin, 78-79 (American); Dean-Smith, 85 (English); and Greig and Keith, 57-58 (Scottish).
The five tunes given here are related, four of them very closely. Only the Fish tune diverges. In order to save repetition of references, the related tunes for the group consisting of the Grindell, Moore, Britton, and Pierce. Tunes are given here: SAA,20; SSC, 122; Sharp , 149 (C), 149 (D and E), 116 (distant), and 147 (distant); AA, 124; DV,524, No. 20 (E, L, and O); EO, 39, 40; BES, 139 (not too close); BI, 92. obviously this tune group is very widespread and its correlation with the Child 75 text is great.
H. Lord Lovel. As sung by Mrs. Belle Richards of Colebrook, New Hampshire. M. Olney, Collector; July 21, 1943
Lord Lovel he stood at his castleyard gate
A-combing his milk-white steed,
When along came Lady Nancy Bell
A-wishing her lover good speed, speed, speed.,
A-wishing her lover good speed.
"Oh, where are you going, Lord Lovel?" she said,
"Oh, where are you going?" said she.
"I'm going, Lady Nancy Bell,
Strange countries for to see, see, see,
Strange countries for to see."
"When will you be back, Lord Lovel?" she said,
"When will you be back?" said she.
"In a year or two or three at the most,
I'll return to my lovely Nancee, cee, cee,
I'll return to my lovely Nancee."
He hadn't been gone but a year and one day
Strange countries for to see,
When languishing thoughts came into his head,
Lady Nancy Bell he must go see, see, see,
Lady Nancy Bell he must go see.
So he rode and he rode on his milk-white steed
Till he came to Londontown,
And there he heard St. Varney's bells
And the people all mourning a-round, 'round, 'round,
And the people all mourning a-round.
"Is there anyone dead?" Lord Lovel, he said,
"Is there anyone dead?" said he.
"There's a lady dead," so the people all said,
"And they called her the Lady Nancee, cee, cee,
And they called her the Lady Nancee."
He ordered the grave to be opened forthwith
And the shroud to be folded down,
And there he kissed her claycold lips
And the tears came trickelling down, down, down,
And the tears they came trickelling down.
Lady Nancy she died the same as today;
Lord Lovel he died tomorrow.
Lady Nancee she died out of pure, pure grief,
And Lord Lovel he died out of sorrow, row, row,
And Lord Lovel he died out of sorrow.
Lady Nancee was buried in St. Clement's churchyard;
Lord Lovel was buried close by her,
And out of her bosom there grew a red rose,
And out of his backbone a briar, iar, iar,
And out of his backbone a briar.
They grew and they grew to the church steeple top
And they couldn't get up any higher,
And there they got twined in a true lovers' knot,
Just the kind that young people admire, ire, ire,
Just the kind that young people admire.