> Tony Rose > Songs > Young Hunting
> Tim Hart & Maddy Prior > Songs > Earl Richard
> Spiers & Boden > Songs > Earl Richard
> June Tabor > Songs > Love Henry
> A.L. Lloyd > Songs > The Proud Girl
> Frankie Armstrong > Songs > The Proud Girl

Young Hunting / Earl Richard / Love Henry / The Proud Girl

[ Roud 47 ; Child 68 ; Ballad Index C068 ; trad.]

This 30-verse long ballad of jealousy and murder was sung unaccompanied by Tony Rose as title track of his first album, Young Hunting (1970). He commented in the album sleeve notes:

The story of Young Hunting is basically a simple one—a jilted girl gains revenge by killing her former lover—and yet the song is one of the most powerful and compelling I have heard. Perhaps more than anything this is due to the drama and mystery lent to the story by the recurring hints of magic and the supernatural—the talking bird, the floating candle used to indicate the place of a drowned body, the body of the murdered man bleeding in the presence of the murderer, and the final trial by ordeal. This is a fine reworking of the ballad by Peter Nalder, and the tune I got from Peter too.

Tim Hart and Maddy Prior recorded a much shorter form [Child 68F] with the name Earl Richard for their second duo album, Folk Songs of Old England Vol. 2. The record's sleeve notes comment:

This song concerns the murder of Earl Richard by his jealous lover, and is a shorter version of the ballad Young Hunting. In the latter stanzas a bird speaks to the murderess, and while this could be a reference to the transfiguration of the soul of her victim, it is more probable that the bird plays an innocent role, since speaking birds like the mythological phoenix in earlier times and later the parrot, are universal as messengers throughout folklore. This version comes from Motherwell's Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border.

John Spiers and Jon Boden recorded Earl Richard in 2001 for their Fellside CD Through & Through, and Jon Boden sang it as the June 28, 2010 entry of his project A Folk Song a Day. He also commented in the CD liner notes:

A version of Young Hunting noted from a Miss Stephenson of Glasgow in 1825. Talking birds are not uncommon in traditional ballads but this one is unusually moral and immune to bribery, a stark contrast to the behaviour of the human characters.

A variant of Young Hunting called Love Henry was collected by Cecil Sharp in September 1916 from Mrs Orilla Keeton, Mount Fair, Virginia. Frank Proffitt of North Carolina sang it as Song of a Lost Hunter (Love Henry) on his Folk-Legacy album of 1962, Traditional Songs and Ballads of Appalachia.

June Tabor (accompanied by Mark Emerson on violin) recorded Love Henry in March 1990 at Wytherston Studios. This demo was included in the Hokey Pokey charity compilation Circle Dance and later on her 4 CD anthology Always. She commented in the latter's notes:

I've often found it amusing and distressing the way the great ballads metamorphosed when they crossed the water. Something as disturbing as Young Hunting with its supernatural references, with the corpse bleeding when the murderer approaches and the real weight of horror that is in that tale of murder and the attempted concealment by the former true love, turns into a kind of Disneyfied version that becomes Love Henry. And yet it still has so much strength. Now I appreciate much more the power of the Appalachian versions, whereas I might once have said, “Yes, but it's not as good as the original.” This one sneaked through because it's got so many good lines in it. Particularly,

Then up and spoke a pretty little bird
Exceeding on a willow tree

You've got to sing a song with that in it! The bird flies away into the sunset to star in the sequel, while everybody else dies unhappily ever after.

Martin Simpson sang Love Henry on his 2005 CD Kind Letters. This recording was also included in the BBC Radio 2 Folk Awards 2007 compilation.

A.L. Lloyd sang another variant of Young Hunting called The Proud Girl live at the Top Lock Folk Club, Runcorn, on November 5, 1972. This concert was published in 2010 on the Fellside CD An Evening with A.L. Lloyd.

And Frankie Armstrong sang The Proud Girl in 1996 on her ballads album Till the Grass O'ergrew the Corn. The sleeve notes commented:

Bert Lloyd gave Frankie this chilling version of Young Hunting, which he seems to have based chiefly on that given to Walter Scott by James Hogg, the “Ettrick Shepherd”, who had it from his mother. There can be few more imperious female protagonists in balladry: on learning of her love's falseness, she reacts with a ferocity worthy of a heroine from Greek tragedy. One reason for the power of ballad texts is that the bareness of their telling leaves space for singers and listeners to fill in the parts which are missing: they positively demand that we set our imaginations to work. Was it really pride that sparked the girl's action, or true love turned to hate? Did she keep the corpse so close because she still loved him? The candles which burn so bright may, says Child, allude to the practice of floating a loaf with a consecrated candle on it to divine the whereabouts of a drowned body. The inquisitive and tale-telling bird has been identified by folklorists as housing the soul of the dead man.

Brian Peters sang Young Hunting on the 1997 Fellside anthology Ballads. Paul Adams commented in the liner notes:

Brian notes that this is: “A ballad of murder and detection, whose supernatural elements—locating a submerged body using floating candles, a corpse gushing blood in the presence of a murderer, ordeal by fire—are omitted by recent source singers. The garrulous bird, however, is retained in Martin McDonagh's version (he called in “Lady Margaret”), collected in Co. Roscommon by Tom Munnelly in 1974, which supplied the tune used here. Frank Proffitt of North Carolina sang Song of a Lost Hunter—same story, no bird, servant's gender changed to male providing additional sexual frisson—to a recognisably related melody. The text was knocked together from Child; for dark drama it takes some beating.”

Nancy Kerr & James Fagan sang Young Hunting in 1998 on their first duo CD on the Fellside label, Starry Gazy Pie. They commented in their liner notes:

This version of Child 68 is from British Ballads from Maine. Vestiges of totemistic belief account for the ability of animals to chat with the human characters in a ballad. In this case the bird discloses the murder and may be the victim in spirit form. Songs like The Grey Cock and Outlandish Knight also feature human attempts to buy the favour of a surly animal/soul, with varying success.

James Findlay sang Young Hunting at the Bath Folk festival 2011:

Lyrics

Tony Rose sings Young Hunting	Tim Hart and Maddy Prior sing Earl Richard
	Earl Richard is a-hunting gone, As fast as he could ride His hunting horn hung round his neck And broadsword by his side
As she was a-walking all alone And down in a leafy wood She has heard the sound of a bridle reins; And she hoped that it might be for good.	He rode till he came to my lady's gate He telled out the pin And answered yes she had said To rise and let him in
“Come down, come down, you fine young man, You're welcome home to me, To my cosy bed and the charcoal red And the candles that burns so free.”	“Oh light, oh light, Earl Richard,” she said, “Oh light and stay the night You shall have cheer with charcoal clear And candles burning bright”
“Oh I can't come down and I won't come down And nor I come into your arms at all For a finer girl than ten of you Is a-waiting beneath the town wall.”	“I will not light, I cannot light I cannot light at all A fairer lady than ten of you Is waiting now at Richard's hall.”
“Oh well, a finer girl than ten of me I wonder now how that might be? For a finer girl than ten of me I'm sure that you never didn't see.”
Then and he has leaned him across his saddle Oh for a kiss before they did part, And she has taken a keen, long knife And she's stabbed him to the heart.	He stooped down from his milk white steed To kiss her rosy cheek She had a pen knife in her hand And wounded him so deep
Saying, “Lie there, lie there, you fine young man, Until the flesh it rots from your bones And that finer girl than ten of me Can weary waiting alone.”	“Oh lie ye there, oh lie ye there Oh lie ye there till morn A fairer lady than ten of me Will think long of your coming home.” She's called the servants one by one She's called them two by two “I have a dead man in my bower I wish he were away.” Then one's a-take him by the hands The other by the feet They've thrown him in the deep draw-well Full fifty fathom deep
But as she walked up on the high highway She's spied a little bird up in the tree, Saying, “Oh how could you kill that fine young man As he was a-kissing of thee?”	Then up bespake a little bird That sits upon a tree “Go home, go home you false lady And pay your maids a fee.”
“Come down, come down, you pretty little bird And sit upon my right knee, And your cage shall be made of the glittering gold And the spokes of the best ivory.”	“Come down, come down, oh my pretty bird That sits upon the tree, I have a cage of beaten gold That I will give to thee.”
“I can't come down and I won't come down Nor sit upon your right knee, For as you did serve that fine young man I know that you would serve me.”	“Go home, go home you false lady And pay your maids a fee. For as you have done to Earl Richard So would you do to me.”
“Oh, then I wish I had my bended bow And my arrow close to my knee. I would fire a dart that would pierce your heart As you sit there a-pipin' on that tree.”	“If I had an arrow in my hand And a bow bent on a string I'd shoot a dart at thy proud heart Among the leaves so green.”
“Ah, but you've not got your bended bow And nor your arrows close to your knee. So I'll fly across the sea to that young man's home And tell them what I did see.” So she's gone back to her own house And she's crossed the threshold with a moan, And she has taken that fine young man And she's walled him behind the stones. And she has kept that fine young man For full three-quarters of a year Till a heavy smell began to spread And it filled her heart with fear. So she's called unto the servant girl And this to her did she say: “There is a fine and a young man in my room And but it's time that he was away.” So the one of them's took him by the shoulders, And the other one's took him by the feet And they've thrown his body in the River Clyde And that run so clear and so sweet. And they had not crossed a rig of land, A rig and barely one, Before they saw his old father come a-riding All along. “Oh where you've been, my gay lady? And where have you been so late? For we've come a-seeking for my only son Who used to visit your gates.” And there came a-seeking for this fine young man A-many lords and many knights. And there came a-weeping for this fine young man Full a-many's the lady bright. And now the ladies turned them around and about And they made such a mournful sound, Saying, “We greatly fear that your son is dead And he lies neath the water and drowned.” “So, who will dive from either bank For gold and for fee?” And the young men dived from either bank But his body they could not see. Then up and speaks that pretty little bird A-sitting up high in the tree, Saying, “Oh, cease your diving, you divers bold, For I'd have you to listen to me.” “And I'd have you to cease your day diving And to dive all into the night. For under the water where his body lies The candles they burn so bright.” So the divers ceased their day diving And they dived all into the night. And under the water where his body lay, The candles they burned so bright. And they have raised his body up From out the deepest part, And they've seen the wound deep into his chest And the turf all across his heart. And when his father did see this dreadful wound He made such a mournful sound, Saying, “Oh, who has killed my only son Who used to follow my hounds?” Then up and speaks the pretty little bird, Saying, “What needs all this din? For it was his light leman took his life And then threw his body in.” “Oh, blame not me,” the lady says, “For it was the servant girl.” So they built a fire of the oak and ash And they put that servant girl in. But the fire wouldn't take upon her cheek And the fire wouldn't take upon her chin, And nor would it take upon her hair For she was free from the sin. And when the servant girl touched the clay cold corpse, A drop it never bled. But when the lady laid a hand upon it The ground was soon covered with red. So they've taken out the servant girl And they've put the lady in. And the fire it reached a ruddy red, And all because of her sin. And the fire took fast upon her cheek, And the fire took fast upon her chin, And it sang in the points of her yellow hair, And 'twas all because of her sin.

June Tabor sings Love Henry
As Lady Margaret was a-going to her bed She heard the sound of a musical horn; It made her feel both glad and sad, To think it was her brother John, John, Coming in from his wild hunt. Who should it be but her love, Henry, Returning from his king, king, Returning from his king? “Come down, come down, Love Henry And stay all night with me. You shall have a cheer of a cheerful girl The best I can give thee, thee, The best I can give thee.” “I shan't come down and I won't come down And stay all night with thee. There's a girl by the city wall I love far better than thee, thee, I love far better than thee.” He's leaned across his saddle trim To give her a kiss so sweet; And with a penknife in her right hand She's wounded him in full deep, deep, She's wounded him in full deep. “Woe be, woe be, Lady Margaret, Woe be, woe be to thee; Don't you see my thick heart's blood Run a-trickling down my knee, knee, Run a-trickling down my knee?” She's called unto a maid of hers: “The secret keep on me, And all the fair robes on my body Shall always be to thee, thee, Shall always be to thee.” One's taken him by the long yellow hair, The other one by the feet; They throwed him into the well water Which was both cold and deep, deep, Which was both cold and deep. ”Lie there, lie there, Love Henry Until the flesh rots off your bones. There's a girl by the city wall Thinks long on your coming home, home, Thinks long on your coming home.” It's up and spoke a pretty little bird Exceeding on a willow tree: “There never was a girl by the city wall He loved far better than thee, thee, He loved far better than thee.” “Come down, come down, my pretty little bird And sit all on my knee. Your cage shall be made of the beaten gold And the bars of ivory, -ry, And the bars of ivory.” “I shan't come down and I won't come down And sit all on your knee. For you have murdered your own true love; Far sooner you would kill me, me, Far sooner you would kill me.” “O, if I had an arrow in my hand, My bow on a tuneful string, I'd fire a dart to pierce your heart So you could no longer sing, sing, You could no longer sing.” “O, if you had an arrow in your hand, Your bow on a tuneful string, I'd spread my wings and fly away And tune my voice to sing, sing, And tune my voice to sing.”

Acknowledgements

I found the verses of June Tabor's Love Henry and Malcolm Douglas's note to the song's origin and some text variants at the Mudcat Café thread Lyr Req: Love Henry and changed the verses to June's actual singing. Thanks too to Garry Gillard who reminded me of Martin Simpson's version.