Songs of Misfortune

Recorded at Troy Savings Bank, Troy, NY (3/28-30/05)

Performed by The Love Hall Tryst
Hurdy Gurdys: Rebecca Arkenberg & JWH
Recorded and Engineered by David Seitz
Assisted by Raeann Zschokke
(additional assistance by Rene Christensen & Kieran Rafferty)

Songs 12 & 13: Recorded at Chroma, Seattle, WA (4/18/05)
Performed by The Minstrel in the Galleries
Vocals, Guitar: John Wesley Harding
Electric Guitar: Kurt Bloch
Mandolin, Accordion: Jed Critter
Bass: Jim Sangster
Drums: Mike Musburger
Engineered by Kurt Bloch

Mixed by Wesley Stace and David Seitz
Assisted by Raeann Zschokke at Shelter Island Sound, NYC (5/8/05)
Mastered by Emily Lazar at The Lodge, NYC
Photography and Design by Abbey Tyson, Saltbox Studio
Press by Dawn Kamerling at The Press House
Booking by Mike Leahy at Concerted Efforts, NY

All vocals arranged by The Love Hall Tryst. All songs published by Plangent Visions Music, Inc., ASCAP, except Joan of Arc © Leonard Cohen (Sony/ATV Songs LLC, BMI)

These songs are found, in various forms, in Misfortune, the new novel by Wesley Stace. The relevant passages are quoted beneath the song titles. Misfortune is published, thus far, by Little, Brown (USA), Jonathan Cape (UK), Querido (Holland), Mondadori (Italy), Editions Flammarion (France), Modan (Israel), and Ten Points Publishing (Taiwan).

1. Do Not Fear The Dark
“I have two songs,” Pharaoh proclaimed. “One is new writ, though it has taken me some time to con, called Do Not Fear the Dark or The Seamstress of Bethnal Green.”
“No!” thundered Augustus. “We will not be sung at! Thrips, can we stop this now?”
Thrips attempted to answer, but Pharaoh, whose sole motivating force in life was to deliver a freshly minted song, would not be deflected. All Augustus’ power and money was no match for Pharaoh’s will to sing.

From: Voilà, Chapter Five
Words: Harding
Music: from a tune for Newgates, sung by Mrs. Russell at Upwey, February 1907, noted by H.E.D. Hammond in The Journal of The Folk-Song Society #11

2. Joan of Arc (The Ballad of La Pucelle)
There was a thick blue plank of a book called The Gallery of Heroick Women, which was meant to be inspirational to me. The stories told of the contributions of great women to history, most particularly, war – Boadicea, Artemisia, who had built the Mausoleum, and Joan Of Arc. My mother softly sang me The Ballad Of La Pucelle as I sucked my thumb.
From: I Am Reborn, Chapter Two
Words & Music: Leonard Cohen

3. Lord Bateman
I asked my father about Bateman, and surprisingly (since it is neither fragment of amphora nor ruined column – sometimes I forget he understands anything else…), he knew who he was: a character from one of what he calls the old songs, though he called him Young Bekie – Father had a very ‘singing’ aunt who raised him on these songs, the secret currency of all the people, she said, rich or poor. The ballad tells the story of Gilbert Beket (the father of St. Thomas), who went to the Holy Land and was taken prisoner by Saracens, whereby the daughter of his captor, Prince Admiraud, fell in love with him and, after helping his escape, followed him back to England.
This makes me Admiraud’s daughter! Which is a little better than being Franny, daughter of Owen Cooper, I think
.
From: Land of Dreams, Chapter One
Words: Trad arr Harding
Music: sung by Mr. Joseph Taylor at Brigg, July 1906, noted by Percy Grainger in The Journal of The Folk-Song Society #12

4. Female Rambling Sailor
You dressed as a sailor?
In jacket blue and white trousers, just like a sailor neat and tight, the female rambling sailor. I went to sea to mourn his life. My hands were hard with pitch and tar, though once were velvet soft.
What happened to your hands?
My pretty little fingers, they were so neat and small.
And your wrists?
You soon shall hear of the overthrow of the female rambling sailor.

From: Land of Dreams, Chapter One
Words and Music: Trad arr Harding

5. Lord Lovel
Loveall recalled a previous Lord Loveall and the song that bore his name, and he sang it softly to the baby. This ancestor had deferred his marriage for seven years while he went travelling. He returned after only twelve months, but as he rode home, he heard the church bells ringing, “for Nancy Bell who died for a discourteous squire.” He died too of grief, as he gazed on her corpse lying in its coffin, and was buried next to her. From her heart grew a red rose and from his heart a briar… No one in the family doubted that this was an ancestor, particularly because the Loveall coat of arms featured the very same motif. It was a strange, unheraldic emblem, despite the official description of the rose in the Lex Pantophilensis as “gules, barbed and seeded proper,” but The Young Lord had always felt a deep spiritual attachment to the family insignia and used the entwined flowers, emblazoned on the very doors of the carriage in which he rode, as his signature. Others could keep their escutcheons of pretense, their water budgets and their compony counter-componies, he was happy with this simple sign and the motto beneath: Amor Vincit Omnia.
From: Anonymous, Chapter Two
Words: Trad arr Harding
Music: from various traditional versions, including a tune for Molly Bell sung by Ollie Gilbert, Spring 1963, noted by John Quincy Wolf Jr.

6. The Sanguinary Butcher
This murder took place in Rye, East Sussex, in March 1742. John Breads was hanged in a gibbet iron that can be seen today in Rye Town Hall.
Words: Harding (inspired by Murder In The Churchyard by John Ryan)
Music: adapted from three different versions of The Red Barn or Murder of Maria Martin, sung by Mr. J. Whitby at Tilney All Saints, January 1905, and Mr. and Mrs. Verrall at Monk’s Gate, October 1904, noted by Ralph Vaughan Williams in The Journal of The Folk-Song Society #7

7. Shallow Brown
I couldn’t leave the hold, and the stench smothered me like a blanket. I felt the razor-sharp pins on their chins cut me in pricks. I bled and the room became darker and lighter and then darker and lighter. I wrote on the wall. I counted days. I sang songs to myself.
What songs did you sing?
The story of my life. How I was born and brought up.
Can you sing me that song?
I am singing it
.
From: Land of Dreams, Chapter One
Words: Trad arr Harding
Music: sung by Mr. John Perring at Dartmouth, January 1908, noted by H.E. Piggott and Percy Grainger in The Journal of The Folk-Song Society #12

8. Lambkin
It was one of the old songs, his favourite of the many she sang: the story of Lambkin the builder who tortures Lord Murray’s family when his note is refused. The purity of Annie’s voice contrasted starkly with the words of her song and the street below… She had sung it so many times as a lullaby that the horror of the story was somehow soothing. Pharaoh joined in, slowly remembered what he was about, and began to bang on the front door with all his might.
From: Anonymous, Chapter One
Words: Trad arr Harding
Music: Harding

9. The Lady Dressed In Green
And Annie showed him a door he’d never seen before just beyond the bloody girl. As he went towards it, he tried not to look around or notice the gurgling from her body like water spitting from a loose pipe. He opened the door (“Go and we don’t want to see you till night!” snarled after him) and the outside world shone in its brightness. He looked up at the sky and exhaled, biting his lower lip until it hurt. He breathed in as though he had been submerged for the last ten minutes, drowning in thick paste, and, as he did, he heard the front door banging and the cry: “In the name of the law and His Majesty King George!”
From: Anonymous, Chapter One
Words: Trad arr Harding
Music: from the singing of a little girl at Saunders St. Orphanage, Southport 1915, noted by A.G. Gilchrist in The Journal of The Folk-Song Society #22:
“Margaret piped up in a fresh little voice, and lilted through her ‘ballet’ without a pause till she arrived breathless at the end – the rest sitting thrilled and spellbound through her performance. (A ring-game. Two in the middle personate mother and baby, with more or less dramatic action. The three ‘bobbies’ rap at the door. The mother ducks under the arms of the circle and goes to let them in. They rush in, seize the mother and hale her off to prison, and the ring breaks up. The children in the ring dance gaily round the whole time, until the ‘bobbies’ rush in.)” p.81

10. The Abandoned Baby
It was one of the collection of ballads that, a lifetime ago, we had restored and catalogued in the library. What sort of information could a ballad have for me?
“Rose,” he said. “Please look.”
He was pointing to the publication date. It was the year after my birth.
“So?” I said.
“Look at the picture.”
The pictures never had anything to do with the text, I wanted to say, but I decided to humour him. I looked at the whole broadside for the first time. The banner at the top said simply: “THE ROSE AND THE BRIAR or THE ABANDONED BABY SAVED FROM THE HOUNDS – An excellent ballad to a merry old Tune, called The Old Wife She Sent to the Miller Her Daughter from the publisher of The Last Confession Of James Riley, Highwayman.” And below this, before the ballad proper began, there was a comparatively well executed woodcut of a coach in front of a castle, with details I was unable to quite take in.

From: Land of Dreams, Chapter Three
Words and Music: Harding

11. Jack In The Green
The jousting exhibition passed “without grave incident,” the dances of the local children “pleased young and old alike,” as did the singing of the Sunday school (the same children), and “even in a happy crowd of over 400, there were no arrests.”
From: I Am Reborn, Chapter One
Words: Harding
Music: Black, White, Yellow and Green (traditional), as heard on Shirley and Dolly Collins’ album, Anthems In Eden

12. Do Not Fear The Dark (electric)
Performed by: The Minstrel in the Galleries

13. Lord Bateman (electric)
Performed by: The Minstrel in the Galleries

Do Not Fear The Dark

or The Seamstress of Bethnal Green

It fell upon the Eustace Eve, close by Bethnal Green
A pretty little seamstress lived in a house so mean
Her husband’s name it was McRae and her own was Bryony
Her apron would not fit her, a family there would be

And in the quiet of the night, she dreamed a cruel dream
The pretty needlewoman who lived by Bethnal Green
Death, he would come unto her and take the child away
She woke in such a fright upon that dark and dismal day

In Bethnal on the Eustace morn, evil is abroad
And when the sun has risen come a knock upon the door
Don’t you let him in my dear, his name you first must learn
He is a noble soldierman, his name is called Redfern

On the floor lies poor McRae, (all) murdered in his gore
As Redfern turns to Bryony, a-wipin’ of his sword
Wipin’ of his sword, he says, (now) no more shall you sew
(I’ll) speak for you and your baby with but a single blow

As he step-ed up to her, the seamstress she did flee
Through the streets of Bethnal and to the Rookery
She went into the bleeding house to hide herself away
Death was waiting there for her (just) as the dream did say

Death, oh Death, my babe’s not born, do not take her from me
It is not she I take from thee, but you must come with me
Death, Oh Death, have pity please though I must say goodbye
Save my precious little child who wasn’t meant to die

And God is good and merciful and on his grace we thrive
For though her parents two were killed, the babe she did survive
So, helpless babes and children all, pray do not fear the dark
For though the thunder roars, your God will send to you an ark
You little babes and children all, do not fear the dark
(For) when the Day seems over, yet the daylight isn’t far

(words: Harding)

Joan of Arc (The Ballad of La Pucelle)

The flames they followed Joan of Arc
as she came riding through the dark;
no moon to keep her armour bright,
no man to get her through this very smoky night.
She said, "I’m tired of the war,
I want the kind of work I had before,
A wedding dress or something white
To wear upon my swollen appetite."
Chorus

(I’m) glad to hear you talk this way,
(I’ve) watched you riding every day
and something in me yearns to win
such a cold and lonesome heroine.
"And who are you?" she sternly spoke
to the one beneath the smoke.
"Why, I’m fire," he replied,
"And I love your solitude, I love your pride."
Chorus

"Then fire, make your body cold,
I’m going to give you mine to hold,"
saying this she climbed inside
to be his one, to be his only bride.
(And) deep into his fiery heart
he took the dust of Joan of Arc,
and high above the wedding guests
he hung the ashes of her wedding dress.
Chorus

It was deep into his fiery heart
he took the dust of Joan of Arc,
and then she clearly understood
if he was fire, oh she must be wood.
I saw her wince, I saw her cry,
I saw the glory in her eye.
Myself, I long for love and light,
but must it come so cruel, and oh so bright?
Chorus

(words: Cohen)

Lord Bateman

Lord Bateman was a noble lord,
A noble lord of high degree.
And he shipped himself on board a ship,
Some foreign country he would go see.

He sailed East, he sailed West,
Until he came to proud Turkey.
Where he was taken and put in prison,
Till his life was quite weary

And through his shoulders they put a bore
And through each bore, they put a tree
And made him draw the carts of wine
Where horse and oxen were wont to be

The Turk he had one only daughter,
The fairest lady you ever did see
She stole the keys of her father’s prison,
And said Lord Bateman she would set free.

Have you got houses, have you got lands?
And does Northumberland belong to thee?
And what would you give to the fair young lady,
As out of prison would set you free?

Oh I’ve got houses and I’ve got lands,
And half Northumberland belongs to me;
And I’d give it all to the fair young lady,
As would release me and set me free.

She’s taken him to her father’s hall
And given to him a glass of wine.
And ev’ry health that she drank to him:
Was I wish, Lord Bateman, that you were mine.

For seven long years I’ll make a vow,
And seven long years I’ll keep it strong;
If you will wed with no other lady,
Then I will wed no other man.

She’s taken him to her father’s harbour,
And given to him a ship of fame:
Farewell, farewell to you, Lord Bateman,
I fear I’ll never see you again.

Seven long years were up and past
Seven long years, well known to me
She’s packed up all of her gay clothing,
And said Lord Bateman she would go see.

And when she’s come to Bateman’s castle,
So loudly then she rang the bell.
Who’s there? Who’s there? cried the proud young porter
Who is there, come to me tell.
Isn’t this Lord Bateman’s castle?
And is Lord Bateman here within?
O yes! O yes! cried the proud young porter
He’s just now taken his new bride in.

Tell him to bring me a slice of bread,
And bring a bottle of the very best wine;
And not to forget the fair young lady
That did release him when close confined.

Away, away went the young proud young porter,
Away, away and away went he,
And when he’s come to Bateman’s chamber,
Then down he fell on bended knees.

What news, what news, you proud young porter
What news, what news, have you brought me?
There is the fairest of fine young ladies
That ever my own two eyes did see.

She has a ring on every finger
And on one finger she has three
There is more gold sparkling on her brow
Than ever my own two eyes did see

She bids you bring her a slice of bread,
And bring a bottle of the very best wine;
And not to forget the fair young lady,
That did release you when close confined.

Bateman rose all in a passion
He broke his sword in splinters three (alt)
I’ll give up all of my father’s land
If my Sophia has come to me

Quickly he ran down the steps
Of fifteen steps he made but three (alt)
He’s taken her into his arms
And he kissed her tenderly

Then up spoke the young bride’s mother
Who never was heard to speak so free
What will you give to my only daughter
If your Sophia has crossed the sea.

I own I wed your only daughter;
She’s neither the better nor worse for me.
She came to me on a horse and saddle;
But she’ll go home in a carriage and three.

Bateman prepared another wedding,
With all their hearts so full of glee.
O never more will I cross the ocean
Now my Sophia has come to me

(words: Trad Arr Harding)

Female Rambling Sailor

Come all you maids, both near and far
And listen to my story
’Twas near Gravesend there lived a maid
She was both neat and pretty.
Her true love he was pressed away
And drowned in some foreign sea
Which caused this fair maid for to say
’I’ll be a female sailor.’

This maiden was resolved to go
Across the foaming ocean
She was resolved to let them know
How she could gain promotion
With jacket blue and trousers white
Just like a sailor neat and tight
The sea it was the heart’s delight
Of the female rambling sailor

Like a sailor true she went on board
All for to do her duty
She was always ready at a call
This maid the queen of beauty
When in a calm this damsel young
Would charm the sailors with her tongue
As she walked the decks and sweetly sung
The female rambling sailor

When in the storm upon the sea
She was ready at her station
Her mind as calm as calm could be
She loved her occupation
From stem to stern she boldly goes
She braves all dangers, fears no foes
But soon you’ll hear the overthrow
Of the female rambling sailor

This maiden did a wager lay
She’d go aloft with any
And up aloft she straight did go
Where times she had been many
The maiden bold oh sad to tell
She missed her hold and down she fell
And calmly bid the world farewell
Did the female rambling sailor

This maiden gay did fade away
Just like a drooping lily
Which made the sailors sigh and say
Farewell, faithful young Willy
When her snow white breasts in sight they came
They saw it was a female frame
Rebecca Young it was the name
Of the female rambling sailor.

May willows wave around her grave
And round the laurels planted
May roses sweet grow at the feet
Of one who was undaunted.
May a marble stone be inscribed upon
Here lies one so lately gone
A maiden fair as sun shone on
The female rambling sailor

So, come all you maids, both near and far
And listen to my story
Her body’s anchored in the ground
Let’s hope her soul’s in glory.
On the river Thames she was known well
No sailor there could her excel
One tear let fall as a last farewell
To the female rambling sailor.

(words: Trad arr Harding)

Lord Lovel

Lord Lovel stood at his castle gate,
A-combing his milk-white steed
Along comes Lady Nancy Bell,
Wishing her lover good speed
Wishing her lover good speed

"Where are you going, Lord Lovel?" she said,
"O where are you going?" said she
"I’m going, my dear Nancy Bell,
Strange countries for to see
Strange countries for to see.”

"And Will you return, Lord Lovel?" she said,
"Oh, will you return to me?”
"In a year or two or three
I’ll return to my Lady Nancy
Return to my Lady Nancy.”

He hadn’t been gone but a year and a day,
Strange countries for to see,
When a stranger thought came to his head
To go to his Lady Nancy
Go to his Lady Nancy

He rode and he rode upon his white horse,
Till he came to his town
And there he heard the old church bell,
And the people all mourning round
People all mourning round

"Is someone dead?" Lord Lovel said,
A-gazing on the spire
“It’s Nancy, Lady Nancy’s died
For a discourteous squire
For a discourteous squire

He ordered “Open up the grave
And pull the shroud down low
Nancy died for me today
I’ll die for her tomorrow
I’ll die for her tomorrow

And from her grave grew a red rose
And from his heart a briar
They grew and grew till they reached the church top
And there could grow no higher
And there they twined in a true lover’s knot
For lovers to admire.

(words: Trad Arr Harding)

The Sanguinary Butcher

Twas in the Royal Town of Rye, on a night dreadful and cold
James Lamb the Mayor unlocked his door and walked out all alone
His son he had invited him his ship to come aboard
But the mayor would rather stay at home all as the thunder roared

He saw a man out in the street, and recognized his face
And asked this man, his wife’s brother, to go all in his place
Why yes dear Lamb I’ll go for you, the fateful words he said
If ‘n you will lend to me your cloak that is blood red

Breeds the Butcher sat alone, a-sharpenin’ his knife
For he knew James Lamb the mayor went on the ship that night
Lamb had fined the butcher Breeds for serving measures short
And in revenge Breeds swore to kill the mayor of the Cinque Port

It was just behind St.Mary’s Church, close by the Ypres Tower
He hid himself behind a grave until the fateful hour
He recognized the blood red coat just as it passed him by
Out came Breeds and stabbed his foe with his butcher knife

Now all things being silent, Lamb dreamed an awful dream
His dead wife’s spirit came to him to warn him as it seemed
(The) second time she came that night, he saw a ghostly light
She said “Go find my brother dear, for Murder walks tonight”

Three times she appeared to him, her husband in his bed
And on the third he rose to find the poor ghost’s brother dead
The knife was found upon a grave by some brave local man
And Breeds still drunk upon the town sang “Butchers should kill lambs”

He got no mercy at the trial, the judge he was no friend
For it was the same James Lamb whose life he’d meant to end
The murderer, he was hanged beneath the Strand Gate Arch
His body put into a cage and hanged upon the marsh

They put his skull in Rye Town Hall, and there it is today
“Killed by a sanguinary butcher” writ upon a grave
So, come all ye who seek revenge and look upon John Breeds
Who murdered one he never knew and was hung by his enemy

(words: Harding)

Shallow Brown

Shallow Brown, you’re going to leave me
Shallow, Shallow Brown
Shallow Brown, you’re going to leave me
Shallow, Shallow Brown

Shallow Brown, don’t you deceive me
Shallow, Shallow Brown
Shallow Brown, don’t you deceive me
Shallow, Shallow Brown

You’re going away across the ocean
Shallow, Shallow Brown
You’re going away across the ocean
Shallow, Shallow Brown

And will you climb them distant mountains?
Shallow, Shallow brown
Try to find them crystal fountains?
Shallow, Shallow brown

You said I love you Juliana
Shallow oh shallow brown
I truly love you Juliana
Shallow oh shallow brown

You’ll always be my heart’s devotion
Shallow, Shallow Brown
You’ll always be my heart’s devotion
Shallow, Shallow Brown

For your return my heart is burning
Shallow, Shallow Brown
For your return my heart is burning
Shallow, Shallow Brown

When you return, we will get married
Shallow, Shallow Brown
When you return, we will get married
Shallow, Shallow Brown

Shallow Brown, you’re going to leave me
Shallow, Shallow Brown
Shallow Brown, you’re going to leave me
Shallow, Shallow Brown

(words: Trad Arr Harding)

Lambkin

Lambkin was as good a mason
As ever laid a stone
He built Lord Murray’s castle
Murray paid him none

Lambkin came down to the house
When Murray’s far from home
He came to get his silver
Murray paid him none

All the doors were shut up tight
All the windows pinned
But there was a false false nurse
Lambkin he slipped in

Where’s the lady of the house?
Asked Lambkin to the nurse
She’s in her chamber sewing
She will not come down

Where’s the heir of the house?
Asked Lambkin to the nurse
He’s lying in his cradle
Stick him with a pin

Lambkin pricked that baby
All over with a pin
The nurse held up a basin
For the blood all to run in.

Mistress dear, Mistress dear
Hear your baby cry
If you don’t come down to help
He will surely die

Lady Murray come downstairs
Not thinking any harm
Lambkin he awaited her
Took her by the arm

Spare my life! Spare my life!
Spare my life so sweet
And you shall have as many coins
As stones lie in the street

Shall I kill her, Lambkin said
Or shall I let her be
Kill her, Lambkin said the nurse
She was never good to me

Scour the silver basin, nurse
Scour it fair and clean
Then hold up the silver
For her blood all to run in

Before the silver basin was
Both scour-ed fair and clean
Lady Murray’s life blood
Was dripping on the stone

Murray has arrived at home
Opened up the door
When he saw his dear wife
Dead upon the floor

“There’s murder in the kitchen, sir
Slaughter in the hall
Lambkin’s killed your son and heir
Your lady fair and all”

Lambkin shall be hung to death
On a gallows high
And the nurse’s body shall be burnt
In an oven that’s near by

Here you are then, Lambkin
I’ll give you your fee
The false nurse shall be burned
And you’ll be hanged upon a tree

(words: Trad Arr Harding)

The Lady Dressed In Green

There was a lady dressed in green
Fare a lair a lido
There was a lady dressed in green
Down by the greenwood side

She had a baby in her arms
Fare a lair a lido
She had a baby in her arms
Down by the greenwood side

She had a penknife long and sharp
Fare a lair a lido
She had a penknife long and sharp
Down by the greenwood side

She stuck it in the baby’s heart
Fare a lair a lido
She stuck it in the baby’s heart
Down by the greenwood side

She went to the well to wash it off
Fare a lair a lido
She went to the well to wash it off
Down by the greenwood side

The more she washed, the more it bled
Fare a lair a lido
The more she washed, the more it bled
Down by the greenwood side

There came a knocking on the door
Fare a lair a lido
There came a knocking on the door
Down by the greenwood side

There came three bobbies rushing in
Fare a lair a lido
There came three bobbies rushing in
Down by the greenwood side

They asked her what she did last night
Fare a lair a lido
They asked her what she did last night
Down by the greenwood side

She said I killed my only son
Fare a lair a lido
She said I killed my only son
Down by the greenwood side

(words: Trad Arr Harding)

The Abandoned Baby

When forth in my ramble, intending to roam
To an alehouse I ambled most free
Far from the town, I did spend near a pound
Until I became fuddled most really.

I sat down to sleep for an hour on the cheap
And I had me a dream worth the telling
Till I awoke, in my rib felt a poke
And the landlord was doing the yelling

I walked straight outside, and attempting to hide
On a dustpile did settle to rest
And on top of the mound, there I saw a white hound
Who suckled a child at her breast

‘Hello and good day’ I attempted to say
But the dog she growled at the moon
(She said ‘I’m) not talking to a poor boy such as you
With none but a song as your fortune’

I have seen a ghost fly on the wings of the night
And a dead man return from the war
(I have) heard of a queen who gave birth to thirteen
But I ne’er heard a dog talk before

I kept far away while this canine did say
‘(This) baby is mine for the giving
(I’m her) guardian here and I’ll wait till appears
A lord with a very large living’

‘Fate’s in my paws and this baby’s not yours
Abandoned by father and mother
Hear him softly weep while he’s trying to sleep
We will patiently wait for another’

So we did wait on that lowly estate
(Till a) carriage arrived from the distance
(Which) stopped in its tracks as if chopped by an axe
With none but His Divine Assistance

(And she) Barked to be heard, the dog true to her word
Till the Lord heard this savage and wild
And got her to stop, as they offered a chop
To exchange for the innocent child

And into that carriage they handed the babe
And may nobody call me a liar
But the arms of the one on whom fortune had shone
Was the sign of the Rose and The Briar

And so they made hayste with that baby away
Yes off went that coach like the flyer
And the arms of the one on whom fortune had shone
Was the Bonny Red Rose and The Briar

And the dog too gone home as her work now was done
The hound who loved foundlings and orphans
(May this) country of ours care as much for the poor
As that hound on the outskirts of London

Good luck to that child who was born nearly wild
And pardon my common effrontery
Perhaps you have grown to be quite as unknown
Or perhaps you’ll be King Of This Countrie

And when you do rule, please remember the cruel
Way that nature gave you your beginning
And think of the hound on the desolate mound
And please forgive singers their sinning
And please forgive sinners their singing.

(words: Harding)

Jack In The Green

Out of your bed, forget all your sleep
There’s maidens with garlands and chimney sweeps
Jack, Jack, Jack in the Green
He’s ten foot tall in a floral crown
And everybody has gathered around
for Jack, Jack, Jack in the Green
Look how he comes down Rock A Nore Road
Covered in flowers wherever he goes
Jack, Jack, Jack In The Green
Jack, Jack, Jack In The Green
Jack, Jack, Jack In The Green
The strangest king that you’ve ever seen
Jack, Jack, Jack In The Green

Cheer as he passes, he’s King for a day
His cronies are with him, they’re clearing the way
Jack, Jack, Jack In The Green
All of the giants proceeding with joy
The Hon’rable String and The Lilywhite Boys
Jack, Jack, Jack in the Green
One of his henchmen is looking at you
Look in the mirror, and you’re green too
Jack, Jack, Jack in the Green
Chorus

Some say the dance will be good for the crops
While we consider, let’s drink of the hops
Jack, Jack, Jack in the Green
Then up to the castle covered in moss
Pull up the drawbridge and drum him across
Jack, Jack, Jack in the Green
There he sits on high alone
Watching the morris from up on his throne
Jack, Jack, Jack in the Green
Chorus

Get to the front, that’s my advice
For nothing’s complete without his sacrifice
Jack, Jack, Jack in the Green
They’ll tear him to bits, hand out the leaves
Good Luck to you if you get one of these
Jack, Jack, Jack in the Green
With a good conscience, we drink our beer
The spirit of summer released for the year
Jack, Jack, Jack in the Green
Chorus

(words: Harding)

The remains of John Breads the Sanguinary Butcher in his gibbet iron.

The Troy Savings Bank, Troy, NY.