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The Broomfield Wager
The Broomfield Hill / The Broomfield Wager / A Wager, a Wager
[
Roud 34
; Master title: The Broomfield Hill
; Child 43
; G/D 2:322
; Henry H135
; Ballad Index C043
; GlosTrad
Roud 34
; Wiltshire
165
, 626
; DT BROOMFLD
, BROMFLD2
; Mudcat 17084
, 113640
; trad.]
Nick Dow: Southern Songster Michael Downey: The Ploughboy’s Glory David Herd: Ancient and Modern Scottish Songs, Heroic Ballads, etc., First Volume Gale Huntington, Lani Herrmann, John Moulden: Sam Henry’s Songs of the People Maud Karpeles: The Crystal Spring Alexander Keith: Last Leaves of Traditional Ballads and Ballad Airs James Kisley: The Oxford Book of Ballads Ewan MacColl, Peggy Seeger: Travellers’ Songs From England and Scotland John Morrish: The Folk Handbook Patrick O’Shaughnessy: More Folk Songs From Lincolnshire Roy Palmer: Everyman’s Book of English Country Songs Folk Songs Collected by Ralph Vaughan Williams Songs of the Midlands Frank Purslow: The Foggy Dew James Reeves: The Idiom of the People Sam Richards & Tish Stubbs: The English Folksinger Steve Roud, Julia Bishop: The New Penguin Book of English Folk Songs Sir Walter Scott: Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border Stephen Sedley: The Seeds of Love Ralph Vaughan Williams, A.L. Lloyd: The Penguin Book of English Folk Songs
Ewan MacColl sang The Broomfield Hill, in 1956 on his and A.L. Lloyd’s Riverside album The English and Scottish Popular Ballads, Volume II. This and 28 other ballads from this series were reissued in 2009 on MacColl’s Topic CD Ballads: Murder·Intrigue·Love·Discord. Kenneth S. Goldstein noted:
This ballad may have been known as early as the 16th century in Britain, for mention is made of as song Broom, Broom on Hill in various publications of that period, including The Complaynt of Scotland (1549).
European analogues of the ballad tale date from an even earlier period, one which has the same story with an interesting variation having been written in the 12th century.
Most early versions, as well as the foreign analogues, make mention of the use of a magic rune, charm or herb to cast a spell over the knight to induce a deep sleep. In the version sung by MacColl, as learned from his father, no mention is made of such a charm, but magical overtones may be intended in stanza 6, in which the young lady’s action of walking nine times around the knight’s body may be for the purpose of casting such a spell. It is also conceivable that the seemingly meaningless refrain sung by MacColl was used as a magic incantation.
Ewan MacColl also sang The Broomfield Hill in 1964 in his Folkways album The English and Scottish Popular Ballads: Vol. 2, and Peggy Seeger sang The Broomfield Hill in 1986 on her and Ewan MacColl’s Blackthorne album Blood & Roses Volume 4. where they noted:
This is an old favourite, one of the ‘biter-bit’ stories with a subtler touch than usual. The theme was common in mediaeval European romance and in ballad form it has been found throughout Europe ever since. It is not very common in the United States. Broom, of course, is a magicking plant and the story is very appealing to women, who made, sang and passed down to their daughters songs about the possibility of females using their wits to extricate themselves from difficult encounters with the male. This particular version is from the singing of Carey Woofter, Gilmer County, West Virginia.
Ralph Vaughan Williams collected The Broomfield Hill in 1910 from Mrs Powell, Weobley, Herefordshire, and published it in The Penguin Book of English Folk Songs. A.L. Lloyd recorded this version in 1960 for his EP England & Her Folk Songs. All tracks from this EP were reissued in 2003 on the CD England & Her Traditional Songs. Lloyd noted:
A young man lays long odds with a girl that if she comes to him among the gorse, she won’t return a maid. She takes up the bet, tricks him while he sleeps, and wins the stake. English folk singers had special affection for this ancient ballad of the resourceful girl who (as early versions of the song make clear) had either bewitched or drugged the importunate fellow into his deep sleep. Many versions of the ballad have been noted all over the English countryside; Sharp alone found at least a dozen. Our version was found by Vaughan Williams in Herefordshire.
This darker strain that Lloyd only hinted at the very end of his version is obviously in Cyril Poacher’s version called The Broomfield Wager which he sang at the Ship Inn, Blaxhall, Suffolk, in a 1955 recording by Peter Kennedy. It was included on the anthology The Child Ballads Volume 1 (The Folksongs of Britain Volume 4; Caedmon 1961; Topic 1968) and on the 2014 Topic anthology The Barley Mow. Another recording made by Neil Lanham at the Blaxhall Ship in 1964/5 was included in c. 2000 on the Helions Bumpstead anthology Songs From the Idiom of the People of Blaxhall (Voice of Suffolk Vol. 10). Cyril Poacher also sang The Broomfield Wager in his home at Grove Farm, Blaxhall in a recording made by Tony Engle and Keith Summers in 1974. This became the title track of his 1975 Topic album of traditional songs from Suffolk, The Broomfield Wager. Alan Lomax wrote in the booklet accompanying the Caedmon record:
Cyril Poacher is the heart and soul, as well as the master of ceremonies, of the Saturday night sing-songs at the Ship Inn, in the marshy land along the Suffolk Coast. He wears a sporty cap pulled down over his eyes winks knowingly at his audience, and calls for order like the chairman of a committee. Despite all outward signs of modernity, however, Cyril and his audience are linked, in fantasy, with the past of Britain. One of their favourite ballads deals sympathetically with Napoleon’s son, but equally popular is this story out of European pre-history, in which a girl is required to go forth and defend her maidenhead by magic against a savage horseman, out of the ancient Aryan past. Yet Cyril is in perfect rapport with his crowd as he sings.
The oldest Child versions tell a longer story. The maid wagers with the knight that she can come alone into the fields and return home a virgin. She consults a witch and is told about the magical powers of broom flowers. She ventures forth, finds her knight asleep, strews the magic plants round him and thus returns safe home. In one Kentucky version the knight wakes and says,
If my hawk had wakened me while I slept,
Of her I would have had my will,
Or the buzzards that fly high over the sky
Of her flesh would have had their fill.Thus a tale of pagan magic lived in the hills of the South. In this gentler English version the heroine hides in the bushes to watch her lover’s reaction when he wakes, and the only trace of magic that remains is her nine-times challenging walk around her sleeping lover.
See: Coffin 57; Greig 56; Guide 31.
George ‘Pop’ Maynard’s version called A Wager, a Wager is similar dark. It was recorded by Peter Kennedy for the BBC at Copthorne in 1956 and published in 1976 on Maynard’s Topic album of traditional songs from Sussex, Ye Subjects of England. The album sleeve notes commented:
Although mention is made of A Wager, a Wager (Child 43) in The Complaynt of Scotland (1549), Pop’s text is closer to that which the Birmingham printers Jackson & Son issued in the early 19th century.
Martin Carthy sang Broomfield Hill in 1965 on his eponymous first album, Martin Carthy; this track was also included in 2011 on his Topic anthology Essential. A live recording with Dave Swarbrick at the Folkus Folk Club in 1966 was included in 2000 on their CD Both Ears and the Tail. Carthy recorded The Broomfield Hill again in 1971 for his album Landfall but with a number of small variations. A Martin Carthy and Dave Swarbrick live recording from Cedar Cultural Centre, USA, probably in the early 1990s, was relased in 2011 on the Fellside live anthology Walnut Creek. Carthy noted on the first album:
The use of broom in the old ballad Broomfield Hill to lull an over-enthusiastic suitor to sleep, is another example of the use of herbs. Broom collected on Twelfth Night was believed on the continent to be extremely potent against witches and spirits. The subject of the ballad is a wager between a knight and a maid, the stake being £500 against her virginity, but by use of the broom she outwits him and escapes. The song is widespread in England and Scotland and in some versions the knight eventually succeeds.
and in the Landfall sleeve notes:
The tunes for The Broomfield Hill and Brown Adam were written by myself, the former based on a Hebridean tune, which itself is a variant of the tune taken by Marjorie Kennedy Fraser to make the song known around the clubs as Kishmul’s Galley and the latter, as far as I know, not being based on any other tune, but for a song that I wanted to do for years.
The Critics Group sang The Broomfield Hill in 1968 on their Argo album The Female Frolic and in a recording from the Teatro Lirico in Milan, Italy, on 24 April 1968 on their 1970 album Living Folk. They noted on the first album:
A young man lays a wager with a young girl that she will not meet with him alone in the forest and return home a maid. She takes up the challenge; he arrays himself richly and lies down to await her, first placing a bunch of broom (a sure protection against evil spirits) at his feet. Unfortunately, broom is also a powerful soporific and he falls asleep. She arrives, walks around him three times, kisses him three times, and because three is a witching number, she succeeds in keeping him asleep. She then leaves a token as proof of her presence and departs, the winner of the wager.
This is a very old ballad, a very old theme in our folk tradition, and versions of it are found in many parts of England and America. This particular version is from the singing of Mrs. Powell of Weobly, Herefordshire, collected in 1910.
Caroline Hughes sang two versions of The Broomfield Hill to Ewan MacColl, Peggy Seeger and Charles Parker in 1963 and/or 1966. They were included in 2014 on her Musical Traditions anthology Sheep-Crook and Black Dog. She also sang A Wager, A Wager to Peter Kennedy in her caravan near Blandford, Dorset, on 19 April 1968. This recording was included in 2012 on the Topic anthology of songs by Southern English Gypsy Traditional singersA, I’m a Romany Ray (The Voice of the People Volume 22). Shirley Collins noted in the latter album’s booklet:
The Broomfield Wager is an ancient ballad of a bet made between a knight and a lady that, if they have a tryst in the field of broom, she won’t return home a virgin. By the use of witchcraft, she casts a sleeping spell on him and leaves a ring in his hand to prove she has been there. In his anger at having been outwitted he swears that he would have killed, not only his hound, who should have alerted him, but the woman herself, vengefully wanting the wild birds to feed on her. In Carolyne’s disturbing version, the blood is already shed, the woman lies dead. But the lines of incantation, although misplaced, are still there—“three times he walked around the crownings of her hair”. Of the song Carolyne said, “He bet a wager that you shan’t kiss her ruby lips no more because she’s gone to clay. And what a wicked man he was, wasn’t he?”
Tim Hart & Maddy Prior’s sang George Maynard’s version of A Wager, a Wager en 1968 on their first duo album Folk Songs of Old England Vol. 1. The record’s sleeve notes commented:
From the singing of Pop Maynard comes this version of the well known Broomfield Hill or Broomfield Wager. Although less magical than most versions of the ballad the maid is clearly shown to be a witch, who by walking nine times around her suitor puts him into a deep sleep, thus winning the wager. The theme of a maid using artful or magical devices to maintain her virginity is recurrent throughout balladry.
Dave and Toni Arthur sang Broomfield Hill in 1970 on their Trailer album Hearken to the Witches Rune.
George Dunn of Quarry Bank, Cradley, sang The Broomfield Hill in 1971 to Ewan MacColl and Peggy Seeger. This recording was included in 2002 on his Musical Traditions anthology Chainmaker. Rod Stradling noted:
Poems and tales on this theme date back to the twelfth century; Danish ballads survive from the mid-seventeenth, and Scots from a hundred years later. Versions from English oral tradition were noted early in the nineteenth century (in 1812, in Ipswich, Suffolk—Dawney, The Ploughboy’s Glory p.29) but were becoming rare by the time George Dunn came to be recorded in 1971.
Roud has some 150 entries, almost all of which are from southern England, though there are a few from Scotland and the USA and one from Ireland. There are 15 sound recordings, mostly from East Anglia, and those by Cyril Poacher (MTCD303 and Rounder CD1775), Walter Pardon (Topic TSCD600) and Pop Maynard (MTCD400-1) can still be heard on CD.
Though George initially remembered only one verse [TSF, pp.288-9], he knew that it concluded the song. He received a full text with great enthusiasm—the version from Mrs Powell of Weobley, Herefordshire, noted in 1910 by Mrs E M Leather and Ralph Vaughan Williams (JFS IV, 114)—and quickly learned it [SM, pp. 30-1]. Though he dropped his own final verse, he made—consciously or otherwise—many small changes in the text.
Roy Harris sang The Bonny Green Woods in 1972 on his Topic album The Bitter and the Sweet. This track was also included in the same year on the anthology English Garland (Topic Sampler No 8). A.L. Lloyd noted on the original album:
The romantic European story-song of the girl afraid to keep a rendezvous with her lover for fear he rapes her, and afraid not to for fear of his anger, acquired magical overtones as it spread to the mists of Scotland. Northern singers gave it a new twist by introducing a witch who suggests the girl might dope the lover with herbs, so she could visit him and be gone with impunity. Gradually the magic bits dropped out (especially as the ballad seeped south again), leaving a mysterious gap in the narrative. It has remained a good favourite in Scotland (where it’s sung to a version of the famous tune known in America as Shady Grove), and among English country singers it has turned up repeatedly in the 20th century in an area extending from East Anglia to the Welsh border, and from North of the Wash down to Somerset. In Roy Harris’s version, the words are mainly those of a Lincolnshire servant girl. Anne Hiles. The tune, however, is based on one noted by Vaughan Williams in Hereford.
Oak sang The Broomfield Wager at Benfleet Folk Club, The Hoy and Helmet, Benfleet, Essex, in 1972. This recording made by Keith Summers was included in 2003 on their Musical Traditions anthology Country Songs and Music. Oak member Rod Stradling noted:
Cyril Poacher learned this version of The Broomfield Wager from his mother, Alice Ling, who used to sing it in Blaxhall Ship. It is a very old ballad which has been somewhat stabilised into its present form by broadsheet printers.
In its original form, the ballad tells of a wager between a girl and a supernatural knight who threatens her virginity, and wagers she will not keep a tryst with him. To outwit him the girl resorts to witchcraft, agreeing to meet the knight in a broom field where the plant’s magical qualities will send him to sleep. As in all good ballads, the magic works and, after encircling the knight’s sleeping body three times as a further magical precaution, the girl slips her ring on to his finger, thus proving her presence and, accordingly, winning the wager.
An ancient song then, but one which nevertheless still proves popular among country audiences, not only in East Anglia but also in Sussex and occasionally elsewhere.
On the recording we’d heard (the 1953 Peter Kennedy one), Cyril and the audience constantly interject the phrase ‘hold the wheel’. This allegedly arose as a result of the singer trying to explain the story to a visiting yachtsman who misunderstood ‘had his way’ as ‘hold the wheel’. As might be expected, by the time we got to meet him, a year or so after our learning the song, he had stopped doing so!
George Deacon sang The Broomfield Hill in 1973 on his and Marion Ross’ Transatlantic album Sweet William’s Ghost. The album’s liner notes commented:
The Broomfield Hill in many versions song opens with a wager, but in only a few of the texts does a witch offer advice to save the young maiden’s virginity. The use of a magical flower to keep a man asleep is common in folklore. This tune from Herefordshire, collected by Vaughan Williams, we have collated with the text from Scott’s Minstrelsy.
Brian Dewhurst sang The Broomfield Hill in 1977 on his Fellside album Follow That With Your Sea Lions.
John Roberts and Tony Barrand sang The Broomfield Wager in 1977 on their album of ballads of the supernatural, Dark Ships in the Forest. They noted:
Cyril Poacher, our source for this “pub” version of a most venerable ballad, was a regular at the Saturday night sing-songs in The Ship Inn, at Blaxhall in Suffolk. The somewhat garbled nature of the story line is heightened by the mysterious “Hold the wheel” chorus, apparently the result of a misunderstanding of “had his will” by a visiting (and presumably inebriated) yachtsman. It stuck.
Walter Pardon learned The Broomfield Hill from his uncle, Billy Gee (born 1863). He sang it in a recording made in his home in Knapton, Norfolk, by Mike Yates in between 1975 and 1978. These recordings were issued in 1982 on his Topic album A Country Life and in 1996 on the Topic anthology celebrating English traditional music, Hidden English. The original album’s notes commented:
Tell me, broom wizard, tell me,
Teach me what to do,
To make my husband love me:
Tell me, broom wizard, do!So begins an obscure 13th century English folk poem. The magical properties of the broom plant—its flowers were supposed to have a narcotic perfume—have been known throughout Europe for centuries; and Professor Child gives examples from as far apart as Norway and Italy, Iceland and Germany. In longer versions of the tale, following the wager, the maid consults a witch who imparts her knowledge of the broom flower, thus allowing the girl to win the tryst—an element that is missing in the few sets that have been collected recently.
Pete and Chris Coe sang Broomfield Wager in 1979 on their Highway album Game of All Fours. They noted:
The Broomfield Wager came from another fine Midlands singer, George Dunn of Quarry Bank, Cradley. We learned it from Roy Palmer’s book Songs of the Midlands. Our thanks to him for this and so many other songs.
Ruth Barrett sang Broomfield Hill in 1982 on her and Cyntia Smith’s album Music of the Rolling World. This track was also included in 2007 on the WildGoose anthology Songs of Witchcraft and Magic. Doug Bailey noted:
A number of folk tales involve a young woman being helped out of a predicament by a friendly ‘witch woman’—Cinderella for example. Some of these may have their origins in legends about the Germanic Goddess Holda, but they may also reflect the wise woman’s role in helping young women in a variety of matters concerning love, sex and pregnancy.
The idea of bewitching someone to sleep seems very ancient. Medea gives Jason a spell to send to sleep the dragon guarding the Golden Fleece—t involves Jason sprinkling the dragon with the juice of magical herbs and saying magic words three times.
A fuller version of this song makes it clear that strewing the broom flowers is part of the spell: “And aye the thicker that ye do strew / The sounder he will sleep.”
Broom is a magical plant associated with the fairies.
The Albion Band sang Broomfield Hill on their 1987 album Stella Maris.
Arthur Knevett sang The Broomfield Wager on his 1988 cassette Mostly Ballads. Vic Gammon noted:
Magic or good luck? That is the question that has troubled scholars who have considered this song. The romantics point to the bunch of green broom, the girl walking round the sleeping lover three times, and the horse who is asked questions, as mystical and magical elements.
The lesser romantics say that the tardy lover deserved to lose the bet. Whichever you are it’s a good story jauntily told. Arthur’s version is based on that in The Penguin Book of English Folk Songs which was collected from Mrs Powell of Herefordshire in 1910 by Ella Leather and Ralph Vaughan Williams.
Nick Dow recorded Catch Me If You Can for the BBC in 1989. This was included in 2020 on his Old House album Then As Now where he noted:
The Trees They Grow So High, The Broomfield Hill and Catch Me If You Can were all recorded for a radio documentary called “Marina”. This was the life story of Marina Russell of Upwey, Dorset, one of Hammond’s most prolific singers. The documentary was quite successful and was entered for a Sony award. (It did not win one though.) The songs are all in Mrs. Russell’s repertoire. The research and recording of the documentary was all done the hard way, before the option of the internet and digital recording, on miles of analogue tape. It later transpired there were several shortcomings in the research, and the record was put straight in the book Southern Harvest and also the magazine “Living Tradition”
Jo Freya sang The Broomfield Wager in 1992 on her Saydisc album Traditional Songs of England and in 1997 on Tanteeka’s album A New Tradition. The first album’s notes commented:
An ancient ballad which has been collected in various versions throughout England and Scotland also finding its way to America. Cecil Sharp alone collected twelve versions and the ballad was often printed on broadsheets. The last verse adds a very sinister undertone to the apparently innocent story. A Scots version gives the explanation of the heavy slumber—without which there would be no story—as due to a charm associated with the soporific qualities of broom. Details of this secret charm are given to the young lady of the song by a ‘witch-woman’. Our version is a synthesis of several variants.
Gordon Hall (1932-2000) sang a very long version of Broomfield Hill (with 26 verses!) in a recording made by John Howson in the singer’s home in Pease Pottage, Sussex on 8 February 1995. This track was published in the same year on the Veteran CD When the May Is All in Bloom. It was also included in 2007 on the CD accompanying The Folk Handbook. John Howson noted in the album’s booklet:
The story of Broomfield Hill or, as it is often known, The Broomfield Wager, or A Wager, a Wager, is at least seven hundred years old and is found right across Europe. Francis James Child gives examples from as far apart as Norway and Italy, Iceland and Germany and he gives six word-sets in The English and Scottish Popular Ballads Vol. 1 (Child 43) while B.H. Bronson gives no less than thirty versions of the tune in The Traditional Tunes of the Child Ballads Vol. 1.
It has been appearing in ballad form in England since the eighteenth century published by amongst others. Jackson of Birmingham and Such of London, but much of the earlier witchcraft was edited out in their broadside versions. This ballad was a great favourite with singers in England and Cecil Sharp collected at least twelve distinct versions. Amongst the many recorded versions are Walter Pardon of Norfolk, Cyril Poacher of Suffolk and ‘Pop’ Maynard of Sussex.
Gordon learned this classic version mainly from his mother Mabs and she is likely to have learned it from her mother, with her father filling in some of the words.
Frankie Armstrong sang The Broomfield Hill in 1997 on her CD Till the Grass O’ergrew the Corn. Brian Pearson noted in the album’s booklet:
The Broomfield Hill has been most often collected in the south west of England, but has also cropped up in Scotland and North America. The story is an old one and the indefatigable Child traces it through European medieval literature from Iceland to Italy. Over the years, the magical elements have leaked away and the woman’s grasp of grammarie is now barely hinted at in most versions. The loquacious and irreverent horse, hound and hawk have survived better, probably for the comedy value of their dialogue. Most texts have a kind of summery, light-hearted quality about them, but just underneath is the darker strain of rape and murder. Frankie has collated a couple of texts and set them to the tune obtained by Gavin Greig from Mrs Margaret Gillespie.
Graham and Eileen Pratt sang Broomfield Hill on their 1997 album Borders of the Ocean. They noted:
One of the many ballads which resolve how a young woman can keep her word, yet remain intact! The first song we ever did together as a duo.
Mary Humphreys and Anahata sang Broomfield Wager on their 2001 album Through the Groves.
Kate Rusby sang Merry Green Broom in 2001 on her CD Little Lights.
Tom, Jean and Ashley Orchard sang A Wager, a Wager on their 2005 Veteran CD Holsworthy Fair. John Howson noted:
Often known as Broomfield Hill or The Broomfield Wager, this song dates back at least seven hundred years and is found right across Europe. Francis J. Child gave examples as far apart as Norway and Italy, Iceland and Germany. It has appeared in ballad form in England since the eighteenth century and was published by amongst others Jacksons of Birmingham and Such of London. It has been a favourite song with Jean’s family for many years and few singing evenings pass without A Wager being sung. It was popular with many traditional singers around the country and another classic version can be heard on Veteran sung by Gordon Hall of Sussex on VT131CD When the May Is All in Bloom.
And Viv Legg of the Orchard Family sang The Broomfield Wager on her 2006 Veteran CD Romany Roots. Mike Yates noted:
The Broomfield Wager is a ballad with ancient antecedents. In the story a knight bets a young girl that she cannot spend a night with him in the broomfield without losing her virginity. Clearly, if the knight is asleep, then nothing can happen to the girl. But how to make him sleep? In the following verses, taken from Sir Walter Scott’s Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border (1803), we find an element of magic that also occurs in other European versions of the ballad:
Up then spake a witch-woman,
Ay from the room aboon:
“O ye may gang to the Broomfield Hill,
And yet come maiden hame.“Take ye the blossom of the broom,
The blossom it smells sweet,
And strew it at your true-love’s head,
And likewise at his feet.”Professor Child cites versions from Scandinavia and Iceland in which the knight is sent to sleep by the use of runes. And he gives further examples from as far away as Italy and Greece. The ballad remained popular in Britain, thanks to broadsides printed in the 18th and 19th centuries, and Cecil Sharp collected no fewer than thirteen versions at the beginning of the 20th century. The ballad has always remained popular with Gypsies and Alice E. Gillington included one set in her book ‘Songs of the Open Road (1911). Several other recent singers, including George Dunn, Walter Pardon, Caroline Hughes, Jean Orchard, George ‘Pop’ Maynard, Cyril Poacher and Gordon Hall, also knew the piece.
June Tabor sang The Broomfield Wager in 2005 on her CD At the Wood’s Heart. Her booklet notes commented:
Child No. 43 The Broomfield Hill: words largely from Alfred Williams Folk-Songs of the Upper Thames (1923), tune collected by Ralph Vaughan Williams from Mrs Ellen Powell of Westhope, near Canon Pyon, Herefordshire, 1910.
One of the great landscape plants and, as it flowers in May and June, of major romantic and erotic significance in European poetry, broom has many virtues, amorous, magical, scenic, medicinal and practical. It was one of those plants used by witches and powerful against witches, liked by other-world beings and useful to keep them away.
(Geoffrey Grigson, The Englishman’s Flora (1958))
Dr Faustus sang Broomfield Wager in 2005 as the title track of their second Fellside CD, Wager. They noted:
From the epic repertoire of Cordon Hall of Horsham, which we know of thanks to the tireless work of John and Katie Howson at Veteran Tapes. We’ve messed with the tune and lyrics as ever.
Bob Fox sang Broomfield Wager in 2006 on his Topic CD The Blast.
Brian Peters sang Green Broom on his 2008 album of Child Ballads, Songs of Trial and Triumph. He noted:
Green Broom, known to Child as The Broomfield Hill, is a magical ballad in which a young girl outwits (and wins a bet with) her suitor by casting a narcoleptic spell on him just when he was hoping for carnal entertainment. That such an ancient and mysterious tale was turned into a raucous pub singalong by the regulars ofthe legendary ‘Blaxhall Ship’ in Suffolk during the 1950s, is the kind of tiling I love about the folk process. Cyril Poacher’s pub rendition is one of my favourite recordings of any traditional song, although left to his own devices he omitted the ‘Hold The Wheel’ chorus, a locals’ in-joke mocking a visiting yachtsman’s mishearing of the words. Mr. Poacher’s verses are a bit garbled as well, but that’s all part of the fun.
Malinky sang Broomfield Hill on their 2009 CD Flower & Iron. They noted:
Sometimes called The Broomfield Wager, we found two great versions of this Child ballad (no. 43), one in the School of Scottish Studies Archive sung by the poet Norman MacCaig from 1952, the other on Ewan MacColl and Peggy Seeger’s 10-volume series of traditional ballads, The Long Harvest from the 1960s. The tune and refrain appear in the 1925 Last Leaves ballad collection, from school janitor Alexander Robb of New Deer, Aberdeenshire, although Gavin Greig mistakenly attached them to The Broomfield Hill; they’re now considered to be from Jock Sheep, a variant of Child 112 The Baffled Knight. Despite the scholars, we’ve opted to continue the muddle! We asked amongst our Gaelic speaking friends to see if perhaps there was anything macaronic in there, but no, the refrain is, you’ve guessed it, pretty much nonsense!
This video shows Malinky at Immaculata University Malvern, PA, on 14 May 2010:
Rachael McShane sang The Broomfield Wager in 2009 on her CD No Man’s Fool; and her band Bellowhead sang Broomfield Hill with an additional “Merry Month of May” chorus in 2010 on their CD Hedonism. Jon Boden repeated it solo as the 6 May 2011 entry of his project A Folk Song a Day. He noted in the project’s blog:
The story of the early morning tryst on top of a blossom-covered hill always seemed May morning-ish to me anyway, so when I found the “13 months” refrain in a fairly unremarkable Robin Hood ballad it seemed reasonable enough to marry the two together. The tune is Bogie’s Bonnie Belle.
Andy Turner sang A Wager as the 13 January 2012 entry of his project A Folk Song a Week. His version comes from George Maynard though he noted in his blog that he first got to know this song from Tim Hart and Maddy Prior’s album.
Sarah Morgan sang The Broomfield Wager, accompanied by Jeff Gillett, live in front of an invited audience at The White Lion, Wherwell, Hampshire, in February 2012. The concert’s recording was released in the same year on their Forest Tracks album The Flowers and the Wine.
Simpson Cutting Kerr sang Broomfield Hill in 2015 as a bonus track of the deluxe edition of their Topic album Murmurs. Martin Simpson noted:
Martin Carthy recorded this ballad set to this tune in one of his most extraordinary guitar performances. I liked verses I found in Bronson’s The Traditional Tunes of the Child Ballads, which came from a version collected from ‘servant girl’ Anne Hiles in Kirton in Lindsey, North Lincolnshire, in 1904. I like the practical nature of the young woman in this song, and I sincerely hope she collected her winnings safely.
Folklincs sang Broomfield Hill on their 2020 album Songs & Tunes From North Lincolnshire. They noted:
Anne Hiles of Kirton-in-Lindsey sang Broomfield Hill to Edgar C. Robinson in March 1906 who noted it down. Lucy received Edgar Robinson’s notation from the folklorist Mabel Peacock.
Alternative titles to this ancient ballad are Broomfield Wager, The West Country Wager, The Merry Broomfield, etc. Miss Hiles called it The Bonny Green Woods. In older versions the girl arrives to find the gentleman (or Knight) asleep on the hillside. In order to prolong his slumber she performs the magical strewing of broom at his head and feet. The sleeping draught is a later substitution.
(Lead singers: Kathleen Watson and Karen Thompson)
Steve Knightley sang Broomfield Hill on his 2025 album of Bob Dylan and Martin Carthy songs, Positively Folk Street.
Lyrics
Ewan MacColl sings The Broomfield Hill
There was a knicht and a lady bricht
Set trysts amang the broom,
The ane to be there at twal’ o’ the clock
And the other ane true at noon.
Chorus (repeated after each verse):
O, Leeze me thee and tho and a’
And madam will ye do?
The seal o’ me is abracee
Fair maiden, I’m for you.
“I’ll wager you, my bonnie lass,
Five hundred poond and ten,
That ye’ll no’ gang to the tap o’ the hill
And come back a maid again.”
“I’ll tak your wager, bonnie lad,
Five hunder pound and ten,
That I’ll gang tae the tap o’ the hill
And come back a maid again.”
As she walked up that high, high hill,
It was the hour of noon,
And there she saw her true lover
A-sleepin’ in the broom.
Nine times she walked aroond his heid,
Nine times aroond his feet,
Nine times she kissed his bonnie red mou’
And O, but it was sweet.
When he awoke frae his muckle sleep,
And oot o’ his unco dreams,
Say he, “My freres, whaure’s my true love
That has been here and gane?”
“If ye slept mair in the nicht, maister,
Ye’d wauken mair I’ the day,
If ye’d awakened frae your sleep
She wadna hae gotten away.”
“If ye’d hae waukened frae my sleep,
O’ her I’d ha’ taen my will,
Though she’d hae deed the very next day,
I would hae gotten my fill.”
O, greetin, greetin, went the out
But lauchin’ came she in,
’Twas a for her body’s safety
and the wager she did win.
So the wager’s laid and the wager’s paid,
Five hundred poond and ten,
’Twas a’ for her body’s safety
And the wager she did win.
A.L. Lloyd sings Broomfield Hill
“A wager, a wager with you, my pretty maid,
Here’s five hundred pound to your ten;
That a maid you shall go to yon merry green broom,
But a maid you shall no more return.”
“A wager, a wager with you, kind sir,
With your five hundred pound to my ten;
That a maid I will go to yon merry green broom,
And a maid I will boldly return.”
Now when that she came to this merry green broom,
Found her true love was fast in a sleep,
With a fine finished rose, and a new suit of clothes,
And a bunch of green broom at his feet.
Then three time she went from the crown of his head,
And three times from the sole of his feet.
And three times she kissed his red rosy cheeks,
As he lay fast in a sleep.
Then she took a gold ring from off of her hand,
And put that on his right thumb,
And that was to let her true love to know
That she had been there and was gone.
As soon as he awoke from his drowsy, drowsy sleep,
And found his true love had been there and gone,
It was then he remembered upon the cost,
When he thought of the wager that he’d lost.
Three times he called for his horse and his man,
The horse he’d once bought so dear,
Saying, “Why didn’t you wake me out of my sleep,
When my lady, my true love, was here?”
“Three times did I call to you, master, me dear,
And three times did I blow with my horn,
But out of your sleep I couldn’t you awake
Till your lady, your true love, was gone.
“O had I been awake when my true love was here,
Of her I would have my will;
If not, the pretty birds in this merry green broom
With her blood they should have all had their fill.”
Martin Carthy sings Broomfield Hill
O it’s of a lord in the north country,
He courted a lady gay.
As they were riding side by side,
A wager she did lay.
“O I’ll wager you five hundred pound,
Five hundred pound to one,
That a maid I will go to the merry greenwood,
And a maid I will return.”
So there she sat in her mother’s bower garden,
There she made her moan,
Saying, “Should I go to the Broomfield Hill,
Or should I stay at home?”
Then up and spake this witch woman,
As she sat on a log,
Saying, “You shall go to the Broomfield Hill,
And a maid you shall come home.”
“O when you get to the Broomfield Hill,
You’ll find your love asleep.
With his hawk, his hound, and his silk and satin gown,
And his ribbons hanging down to his feet.”
“And pick the blossom from off the broom,
The blossom that smells so sweet.
And lay some down at the crown of his head,
And more at the sole of his feet.”
So she’s away to the Broomfield Hill
And she’s found her love asleep.
With his hawk, his hound, and his silk and satin gown,
And his ribbons hanging down to his feet.
And she’s picked a blossom from off the broom,
The blossom that smells so sweet.
And she’s laid some down at the crown of his head
And more at the sole of his feet.
And she’s pulled off her diamond ring
And she’s pressed it in his right hand,
For to let him know when he’d wakened from his sleep
That his love had been there at his command.
And when he woke out of his sleep,
And the birds began to sing,
Saying, “Awake, awake, awake master,
Your true love’s been and gone.”
“O where were you, me gay goshawk?
And where were you, me steed?
And where were you, me good greyhound?
Why did you not waken me?”
“O I clapped with my wings, master,
And bold your bells I rang,
Crying, waken, waken, waken master,
Before this lady ran.”
“And I stamped with my foot, master,
And I shook me bridle till it rang.
But nothing at all would waken you
Till she had been and gone.”
“So haste ye, haste ye, me good white steed,
To come where she may be.
Or all the birds of the Broomfield Hill
Shall eat their fill of thee.”
“O you need not waste your good white steed
By racing to her home,
For no bird flies faster through the wood
Than she fled through the broom.”
Caroline Hughes sings The Broomfield Hill
[O, a wager, a wager, a wager I’ll bet on you,
I’ll bet you fifty guineas to your one:
That you sha’n’t rise and kiss her before she’s gone to clay
For her true love’s been here, but now he’s gone.]
Where is he now, my running faithful dog,
The dog as I been running with before?
It’s you I have a-killed and his blood I’m going to spill
And we’ll let these little wild birds have their fill.
O, for what hard-hearted young man, oh what heart he must have had,
He must have had a heart like any stone!
For murdering of that dear girl he dearly, dearly loved
And he doted the ground that she walked on.
O, for three times, three times I walkèd round the crownings of her hair
Three times around the soles of her shoes,
It’s you I have a-killed and your blood I’m going to spill,
And we’ll let these little small birds have their fill.
Well I laided myself in a bonnie bunch of blue
A-listening to what my true love had to say,
Instead of being asleep, oh I should have been awake,
I should’ve have knowed the deeds that false young man had done.
O, what a hard-hearted young man, what heart he must have had,
He must have had a heart like any stone!
For murdering that dear girl he dearly, dearly loved
And he doted the ground that she walked on.
Caroline Hughes sings The Broomfield Hill (2)
O, for what hard-hearted young man, oh what heart he must have had,
He must have had a heart like a stone!
For murdering of that dear girl, oh he dearly, dearly loved
And he doted the green grass she walked on.
O, for I laided myself, love, in a bonnie bunch of blue
And listened to what my true love had to say,
Astead of being awake sleeping, love, I should have been awake,
I would’ve have knowed the deed the false young man had done.
O, three times that he walkèd around the soles of her shoe,
Three times around the crowning of her hair;
O, ‘tis you I have a-killed and your blood I’m going to spill,
And we’ll let the little wild birds have their fill.
O, what a hard-hearted young man, what heart he must have had,
He must have had a heart like any stone!
For murdering of the young girl, oh he dearly, dearly loved
And he doted on the green grass she walked on.
Caroline Hughes sings A Wager, A Wager
O ’tis where are you now, my faithful greyhound dog,
That dog as I’ve been running with before?
Tis you I have a-killed and your blood I’m going to spill,
And we’ll let these little wild birds have their fill.
O for I laid-ed myself in the bonny bunch of blue.
I were a-listening to what my truelove had to say.
Instead of being asleep, oh, I should have been awake.
I would have known the deeds that false young man have done.
O now three times, now three times he walked around the crownings of her hair.
Three times around the soles of her boots.
“It’s you I have a-killed and your blood I’m going to spill,
And we’ll let these little wild birds have their fill.”
O what a hard-hearted young man! What a heart he must have had!
He must have had a heart like a stone,
For murdering that dear young girl he dearly, dearly loved,
As he doted the ground that she walked on.
O for they both got up *** and got up.
Whilst straightaway to Hawkerbridges [?] prison they went.
That wicked, wicked woman, oh, she did bedo me down.
Now I’m suffering here in prison all my time.
What a wager, a wager, a wager I’m going to bet on you.
I would have bet you fifty guineas to your one,
That you should never go and kiss, oh, her blooming cheeks no more
’Cause the poor girl is gone to ne’er some more.
Maddy Prior sings A Wager, a Wager
“A wager, a wager, a wager I will lay,
I will lay you five hundred to one,
That you don’t follow me unto yonder blooming tree
Or a maiden you never shall return.”
So they both jogged along unto yonder blooming tree,
The weather being very mild and warm.
And he became quite weary, he sat down for to rest,
Then he fell fast asleep upon the ground.
Then nine times she walked the place all around,
And nine times she walked it all round,
And nine times she kissed his red and rosy cheeks
As he lie fast asleep upon the ground.
Then a ring from her finger she earnestly drew
And placed it on her true love’s right hand,
Saying, “This shall be a token for my true love when he wakes,
He will find that I have been but now I’m gone.”
“If I had been awake love, when I was fast asleep,
Of you I would have had my will,
O you I would have killed and your blood I would have spilled,
And the small birds should all have had their fill.”
“Be cheerful, be cheerful and do not repine,
For naught is as clear as the sun.
𝄆 The money, the money, the money it is mine,
The wager I fairly have won. 𝄇”
George Dunn sings The Broomfield Hill
“A wager, a wager, with you, my pretty maid,
Here’s five hundred pounds to your ten,
That a maid you shall go to yon merry green broom,
But a maid you shall not return.”
“A wager, a wager, with you, kind sir,
With your five hundred pounds to my ten,
That I will go to yon merry green broom,
And a maid I will boldly return.”
Now when that she came to this merry green broom,
She found her truelove fast asleep,
With a fine-fashioned rose and a suit of new clothes,
And a bunch of green broom at his feet.
Then three times she went from the crown of his head,
And three times from the sole of his feet,
And three times she kissèd the red rosy cheeks,
As he lay fast in a sleep.
Then she took a gold ring from her hand
And put it upon his right thumb,
And that was to let her truelove to know
That she had been there and has gone.
As soon as he had awoke from his sleep,
Found his truelove had been there and gone
’Twas then he remembered upon the cost
When he thought of the wager he’d lost.
Three times then he called for his horse and his man,
The horse he had once bought so dear,
Saying, “Why didn’t you waken me out of my sleep
When my lady, my truelove was here?”
“Three times did I call to you, Master,
And three times did I blow with my horn,
But out of your sleep I could not awake
’Til your lady, your truelove, was gone.”
“Had I a-been awake when my truelove was here,
On her I would had my will;
If not, the pretty birds in this merry green broom
With her blood they should a-all had their fill.”
Oak sing The Broomfield Wager
O it’s a wager, a wager, a wager I’ll lay you,
I’ll lay you five thousand to your one
That a maid I will go to yon merry green broom
And a maiden I’m sure I will return.
That a maid I will go to yon merry green broom
And a maiden I’m sure I will return.
Hold the wheel!
O and when that this fair maid
Mounted her grey hobby’s back,
She’s rode until she come to that green broom.
O and when she got there
She has found her own true love
Lying in that merry green broom fast asleep
O and when she got there
She has found her own true love
Lying in that merry green broom fast asleep.
Hold the wheel!
Nine times did she walk round the crown of his head
And nine times around the sole of his feet.
Nine times did she say “Awake, Master,
For your own true love is a-standing close by.”
Nine times did she say “Awake, Master,
For your own true love is a-standing close by”
Hold the wheel!
O and when she had done all that she dare do
She crept behind that bunch of green broom,
All for to hear what her own true love should say
When he awakened out of his domestic sleep
All for to hear what her own true love should say
When he awakened out of his domestic sleep
Hold the wheel!
He said, “If I had been awake,
Instead of being asleep,
My will I would have done toward thee.
O your blood it would’ve been spilled
For those small birds to drink,
And your flesh it would have been for their food.
O your blood it would’ve been spilled
For those small birds to drink,
And your flesh it would have been for their food.”
Hold the wheel!
She says, “You hard hearted young man,
O how can you say so,
Your heart it must be hard as any stone,
For to murder the one that lov-ed you so well,
Far better than the ground that you stand on.
For to murder the one that lov-ed you so well,
Far better than the ground that you stand on.”
Hold the wheel!
Cyril Poacher sings The Broomfield Wager
“A wager, o wager, o wager I’ll lay you,
I’ll lay you five thousands to your one,
That a maiden I’ll go to that merry broomfield
And a maiden I’m sure I will return.”
And then did this young maid back on a bay hobby’s back
All for to ride to that green broom,
And when she got there she found her own true love
Lying in that merry green broom fast asleep.
Nine times did she walk round the crown of his head,
Nine times round the sole of his feet,
Nine times did she say, “Awake, master,
For your own true love in standing nearby.”
And when she had done all she dare do,
She stepped behind that bunch of green broom
All for to hear what her own true love should say
When he awoke out of his domestic sleep.
He said, “If I had been awake instead of being asleep,
My will would I have done toward thee.
Your blood it would have been spilt for those small birds to drink,
And your flesh it would have been for their food.”
You hard-hearted young man, how could you say so?
Your heart it must be hard as any stone
For to murder the one that lov-ed you so well,
Far better than the ground that you stand on.
Nine times of this bell did I ring, master,
Nine times of that whip did I snap;
Nine times did I say, “Awake, master,
For your own true love is standing nearby.”
Walter Pardon sings Broomfield Hill
It’s of a young squire who rode out one day,
By chance his lady love did meet.
’Twas down in the lane that led to Broomfield Hill
With these words his lady he did greet:
“A wager, a wager with you, pretty maid,
My one hundred pounds to your ten;
That a maid you shall go into yonder green broom
Bud a maid you shall never return.”
“A wager, a wager with you, kind sir,
Your one hundred pounds to my ten;
That a maid I shall go into yonder green broom
And a maid I shall boldly return.”
And when she arrived down in yonder green broom
She found her love fast asleep,
Dressed in fine silken hose, with a new suit of clothes
And a bunch of green broom at his feet.
Then nine times did she go to the soles of his feet,
Nine times to the crown of his head;
And nine times she kissed his cherry-red lips
As he lay on his green mossy bed.
Then she took a gold ring from off of her hand
And placed it on his right thumb;
And that was to let her true love to know
That his lady had been there and gone.
Then nine times did she go to the crown of his head,
Nine times to the soles of his feet;
And nine times she kissed his cherry-red lips
As he lay on the ground fast asleep.
And when he woke from out of his sleep
’Twas then that he counted the cost,
For he knew that his true love had been there and gone
And he thought of the wager he had lost.
He called three times for his horse and his man,
The horse that he bought so dear,
Saying, “Why didn’t you wake me out of my sleep
When my lady, my true love, was here?”
“O master, I called unto you three times
And three times I blew on my horn;
But I could not wake you from out of your sleep
Till your lady, your true love, has gone.”
Farewell and adieu to her loved one in gloom,
Farewell to the birds on Broomfield Hill.
A maid she did go into yonder green broom
And a maid she remains for ever still.
Ruth Barrett sings Broomfield Hill
There was a lord in the North Country,
And he’s courted a lady gay;
And as they were riding side by side
A wager she did lay:
“And I will wager you five hundred pounds,
Five hundred pounds to one,
That a maid I will go to the merry greenwood
And a maid I will return.”
And there she sat in her own bower door,
And there she made her moan:
Saying, “Should I go to the Broomfield Hill
Or should I stay at home?”
Up then spoke an old witch woman,
As she sat all alone,
Saying, “You should go to the Broomfield Hill
And a maid you will return.
“For when you get to the Broomfield Hill,
You’ll find your love asleep,
With his hawk and his hound and his silken satin gown
And his ribbons all down to his feet.
“And you’ll pick the blossom from off the broom,
And the blossom that smells so sweet,
And you’ll lay some down at the crown of his head
And more at the soles of his feet.”
And she’s away to the Broomfield Hill,
And she’s found her love asleep,
With his hawk and his hound and his silken satin gown
And his ribbons all down to his feet.
And she’s picked the blossom from off the broom,
And the blossom that smells so sweet,
And she’s laid some down at the crown of his head
And more at the soles of his feet.
And she’s pulled off her diamond ring,
And she’s pressed it in his right hand,
For to let him know when he wakened from his sleep
That his love had been there at his command.
And when he’s awakened from his sleep
And the birds began to sing,
They cried, “Awaken, awaken, awaken master!
Your true love’s been and gone.”
“O where were you me gay goshawk,
And where were you me steed?
And where were you oh my good greyhound?
Why did you not waken me?”
“O I clapped with me wings, master,
And all me bells I rang,
I cried, ‘Awaken, awaken, awaken master!’
Before this lady ran.”
“And I stamped with me foot master,
Shook me bridle till it rang;
But there was nothing would awaken you
Till she had been and gone.”
“So haste, haste, my good white steed
For to come where she may be,
Or all the birds of the Broomfield Hill
Shall eat their fill of thee.”
“O you need not burst your good white steed
By racing to her home;
There’s no bird flies faster through the wood
Than she fled through the broom.”
Peggy Seeger sings The Broomfield Hill
I’ll lay you five-hundred pounds,
Five-hundred pounds and ten,
That a maid won’t go to the green broom hill
And come back a maid again.
Up and spoke a sweet young girl,
Her age was just fifteen,
A maid I’ll go to the green broom hill
And come back a maid again.
But when she went to the green broom hill
Her lover was asleep,
With a gay goshork and a good hound dog
And the green broom under his feet.
She pulled a bunch of the pretty green broom
And smelled of it so sweet,
Scattered a handful around his head
And another around his feet.
And then she kissed his pretty red lips
And cut off a lock of his hair,
For to let him know when he woke up
That his darlin’ had been there.
And when she done what she wagered to do
She turned herself away,
Hid herself in the green broom hill
For to hear what he would say.
And when he wakened from his sleep
A fearsome man was he,
He looked to the east, looked to the west,
His darlin’ for to see.
There were you, my gay goshork,
And the hound I trusted dear,
That you would not waken me from my sleep
When my darlin’ was so near?
For if you’d a-wakened me from my sleep
Of her I’d a-had my will,
Or the hawks that fly out over the sky
Of her would a-had their will.
Come saddle me my milk-white steed
And come saddle me brown,
Come saddle me the speediest mare
That ever ran through the town.
You need not saddle your milk-white steed
And you need not saddle your brown,
For the doe never ran so fast through the woods
As the little girl ran to town.
Gordon Hall sings Broomfield Hill
“One wager, one wager, I will lay unto thee,
One hundred bright nobles to your ten,
That you will ne’er me follow to the bonny Broomfield Hill,
And a maiden you never shall return.”
“One wager, one wager, I will lay unto thee,
Your hundred bright nobles to my ten,
That I will go a maiden to the bonny Broomfield Hill,
And will come back a maiden once again.”
There was a knight and a lady so bright
Had a true tryst at the broom,
The one to go ride early on the May morning,
And the other in the afternoon.
The maiden sat at her mother’s bower door,
And there she made her moan,
Saying, “Whether shall I go to the bonny Broomfield Hill,
Or shall I bide me at home?”
“For if I shall go to the bonny Broomfield Hill,
Then my maidenhead is gone,
But if I bide me at my mother’s bower door,
Then my true love will call me forsworn.”
Then up then spake an old witch-woman,
All from her lofty room,
Saying, “Well you may go to the bonny Broomfield Hill,
And yet come a maiden home.
“For when you reach the bonny Broomfield Hill,
You will find your love asleep,
With a costly silver belt about his neck,
And its brother about his feet.
“Then take the blossom from off the green broom,
The blossom that smells so sweet,
And lay it down at his white collarbone,
There and place the twigs at his feet.
“Then take the ring from off your soft white hand
And place it on your true love’s right thumb
That this will be of a token to your true love when he wakes
He will know that you have been at his command.”
“One wager, one wager, I will lay unto thee,
Your hundred bright nobles to my ten,
Then I will go a maiden to the bonny Broomfield Hill,
And will come back a maiden once again.”
The knight jogged on to the bonny Broomfield Hill,
The weather being very mild and warm,
As he became quite weary, why he sat him down to rest,
And he fell fast asleep on the green lawn.
Now when the maiden reached the bonny Broomfield Hill,
She found her love asleep,
With a costly silver belt about his neck,
And its brother about his feet.
Then took she the blossom from off the green bloom,
The blossom that smelled so sweet,
And laid it at his white collar bone,
Then placed the twigs at his feet.
Then three times she danced around the soles of his shoon,
And stroked down the hair of his head,
And three times she kissed his ruby ruby lips,
As he lay fast asleep on his green bed.
Then the ring from her finger she instanter withdrew,
And placed it on her true love’s right thumb,
Saying, “This will be a token to my true love when he wakes,
He will know that I have been at his command.”
Now when the knight woke from out of his long sleep,
And espied the maiden’s ring on his right thumb,
He knew that the fair maid had been at his command,
And the tryst wager she had won.
“O where were ye, my milk white steed,
That I have cost so dear,
That would not watch and waken me,
When there was a maiden here?”
“I stamped with my feet, master,
Which made my bright bridle ring.
But no kind of thing would waken ye
Till the maiden was past and gone.”
“And where were you, my gay goshawk,
That I have loved so dear,
That would not watch and waken me
When there was a maiden here?”
“I flapped with my wings, master,
Which made my bright bell to ring,
But nothing of this earth would waken ye,
Till the maiden was past and gone.”
“And where were ye, my addle-pated page,
As draws my meat and fee,
That would not watch and waken me,
Till the maiden skipped over the lea?”
“I prodded and shook, master,
Now have I this to say,
That if you lay still when laid abed at night,
Then you would not sleep through the day.”
“One wager, one wager, I did lay unto thee,
Your hundred bright nobles to my ten,
I did go a maiden to the bonny Broomfield Hill,
And did come back a maiden once again,”
“If I had been awake, when I was fast asleep,
Of you I would have had my will,
Or it’s you I would have killed and your red blood would have spilled,
And the small birds would all have had their fill.”
“You hard-hearted young man, how can you say so?
Your heart must be hard as any stone,
For to think to murder one that has loved thee so long,
And has danced on the green and mossy lawn.
“One wager, one wager, I did lay unto thee,
Your one hundred bright nobles to my ten,
And I did go a maiden to the bonny Broomfield Hill,
And did come back a maiden once again,
Yes, I did go a maiden to the bonny Broomfield Hill
And did come back a maiden once again.”
Graham and Eileen Pratt sing Broomfield Hill
There was a knight and a lady bright,
Had a true tryst by the broom.
The one went early in the morn,
The other in the afternoon.
And aye she sat in her mother’s bower,
And aye she made her moan.
O should I go to the Broomfield Hill,
Or should I stay at home?
And out then spoke a witch-woman,
All from the room above.
O you may go to the Broomfield Hill,
And still come a maiden home.
For when you get to the Broomfield Hill,
You’ll find your love asleep.
Take ye the blossom of the broom
And strew it round his head and feet.
Take ye the rings from your fingers small;
Put them in his right hand.
To let him know when he awakes
His love was at his command.
Well where were you my good white steed,
O steed that cost so dear,
That wouldn’t watch and waken me
When there was a maiden here?
I stamped all with my hoof, my lord,
And made my bridle ring;
But no such thing would waken you,
Before the lady ran.
Then haste, oh haste, my good white steed
To reach the maiden still;
Or all the birds of the good green wood
Of your flesh shall have their fill.
You need not burst your good white steed
By racing o’er the down;
No bird flies faster through the wood
Than she fled through the broom.
Tom, Jean and Ashley Orchard sing A Wager, a Wager
A wager, a wager, a wager I will bet
I will bet you fifty guineas on to one
That you can’t go down to that red rosy bush
And return the same way home again
When she got there her true was there
He was lying fast asleep on the ground
Three times she walked around the soles of his shoes
And three times around the crown of his head
She takes her ring off from her middle finger
And she placed it on the third of his right hand
Just for to let him now that his true love had been there
Been there and returned once again
When he awoke he said to his little greyhound
Why haven’t you awoken me before
For it’s she I would have killed and her blood I would have spilled
And her blood I would drink it just for wine
Now I am that young girl and I’ll tell you where and when
I can tell you the very time
It was in my father’s garden neath that red rosy bush
When the village clock was striking nine
Viv Legg sings The Broomfield Wager
“A wager, a wager, a wager it shall be,
I will bet twenty guineas to your pound,
That I will go to that bonny greenwood tree,
And a maiden return safe back at home.”
But when she got there to that bonny greenwood tree,
She found her lover sleeping on the ground.
Nine times she walked around the soles of his feet,
And three times she kissed his red and rosy cheeks,
Three times she kissed his red and rosy cheeks,
As he lay a-sleeping on the ground.
She took off the ring from her tiny finger small,
And she laid it on his lily white hand.
It was just to let him know she’d been there and gone again,
A maiden returned back safe at home.
But when he awoke he thought he’d been in a dream,
Or else it was a token I am sure.
“But where had you been to my little greyhound dog,
And why hadn’t you awoke me before?
For that girl I would have killed, and her blood I would have spilled,
And her body would go floating down the tide.”
What a hard-hearted young man, hard-hearted you must be,
You must have had a heart of any stone
For to say that you would murder that fair and pretty maid,
When she doted the ground that you walked on.
Now where has he gone to the Lord above can tell,
His body may be buried in the deep,
But nine months after that young man returned,
He was riding in his carriage and pair.
“Now if you don’t consent that he’s for to marry me,
Into jail I will have you close confined.
For I am a girl who can tell you where and when,
And the very first hour of the time.
It was in your garden ‘neath that red and rosy bush.
Just as the village clock was striking nine.”
Dr Faustus sing Broomfield Wager
One wager, one wager, I’ll lay unto you
One hundred bright nobles to your ten
That if me you’ll follow to the bonny Broomfield Hill
A maiden you never shall return
One wager, one wager, I’ll lay back to you
Your hundred bright nobles to my ten
That I will go a maiden to the bonny Broomfield Hill
And a maiden will come back again
So when this bold knight and his lady so bright
Had made a true tryst at the broom
The one did go early that fine May morning
And the other that same afternoon
And the maiden then sat at her mother’s bower door
And there she is making a moan
Saying Whether shall I go to the bonny Broomfield Hill
Or shall I bide me at home?
For if I should go to the bonny Broomfield Hill
Then will my maidenhead be gone
But if I bide me at my mother’s bower door
Then my true love will think me foresworn
Then up spake a witch woman clear and loud
Who had been hiding alone
Saying Well may you go to the bonny Broomfield Hill
And still come a maiden home
For when you reach the bonny Broomfield Hill
You will find your love asleep
With a fine silver belt around his neck
And its brother. all round his feet
For your love he has run to the bonny Broomfield Hill
The weather being mild and warm
And when he got weary, he sat himself down
And went asleep on the lawn
Take you a blossom from off the green broom
The broom that smells so sweet
And place it all on his white collar bone
And place the twigs at his feet
Then take off the ring from your soft white hand
And place it on your true love’s thumb
That when he awakes from his slumbers so deep
He’ll know you’ve been at his command
When the maiden she came to the bonny Broomfield Hill
She found her love asleep
With a fine silver belt around his neck
And its brother all round his feet
Then she took the blossom from off the green broom
The blossom that smells so sweet
And she laid it on his white collar bone
And placed the twigs at his feet
Three times she’s danced round the soles of his shoes
And stroked down the hair of his head
And three times she’s kissed his ruby lips
As he lay asleep on his green bed
Then the ring from her finger she tenderly drew
And placed it on her true love’s thumb
Saying Love, by this token when you awake
You’ll know I’ve been at you command
When the knight woke from his slumbers so deep
And spied his love’s ring on his thumb
He knew that she had been at his command
And the tryst wager she had won
O, where were you, my milk white steed
That have cost me so dear
That would not watch and waken me
When there was a maiden here?
I stamped with my feet, master, made my reins ring
I stamped and I made my reins ring
With no kind of earthy thing could I wake thee
Till the maiden was past and gone
O where were you, my great grey-hawk
That I have loved so dear
That would not watch and waken me
When there was a maiden here?
I flapped with my wings, master, made my bell ring
I flapped and I made my bell ring
With no kind of earthy thing could I wake thee
Till the maiden was past and gone
And where were you, my little painted page
As draws my meat and my fee
That would not watch and waken me
Till the maiden had skipped off the lea?
I prodded and shook thee and shouted aloud
And now I have this to say
That if you’d lie still when a-bed at night
Then you’d not sleep through the day
To the maiden he cried If I’d not been asleep
Of you I’d have had my will
For it’s you I’d have killed and your red blood have spilled
And the crows would have all had their fill
You hard-hearted young man, how can you say so?
Your heart must be hard as stone
That you would murder your love of so long
And let the winds blow her upon
June Tabor sings The Broomfield Wager
A wager a wager a wager I will lay
Here’s five hundred guineas to your ten
A maiden you will go to the merry green broom
But a maiden you’ll never return
A wager I’ll wager with you kind sir
It’s five hundred guineas to my ten
That a maiden I will go to the merry green broom
And a maiden again I’ll return
And when that she came to the merry broom field
Her true love lay there fast asleep
With his horse at his head and a knife all in his hand
And his greyhound it lay there at his feet
It’s three times she’s walked round the crown of his head
And three times she’s walked round his feet
And three times she’s kissed his rosy red lips
As he lay on the ground fast asleep
She’s taken from her left hand a golden ring
And placed it all on his right hand
For to be a token when he did awake
That his true love had been there at his command
O where were you my good greyhound
That once I bought so dear
O did you not wake me out of my sleep
When my true love she was here
Three times I patted with my foot master
Three times I made my bells to ring
And three times I cried awake awake master
For now is the hour and the time
Sleep more in the night piaster
Wake you more in the day
And then you will know when your true love she does come
And when she goes away
If I’d been awake when my true love was here
And had not gained my will
Then all these wild birds on the merry broom field
This night they should all have had their fill
Her blood should have been their drink for them
Her flesh should have been their meat
Her bones should have been their pillow by night
When they lay them down to sleep
A wager I’ve wagered with you kind sir
Your five hundred guineas to my ten
A maiden I have gone to the merry green broom
And a maiden I’ve returned back again
Brian Peters sing Green Broom
“A wager, a wager, a wager I’ll lay you,
I’ll lay you five thousands to your one,
𝄆 That a maiden I will go to the merry broom field
And a maiden I’m sure I will return.” 𝄇
Chorus (after each verse):
Hold the wheel!
And then did this young maid get on a bay hobby’s back
All for to ride to that green broom,
𝄆 And when she got there, she found her own true love
Lying in that merry green broom fast asleep. 𝄇
Nine times did she walk round the crown of his head,
Nine times round the soles of his feet.
𝄆 Nine times did she say, “Awake, master,
For your own true love is standing nearby.” 𝄇
And when she had done all that she dare do
She stepped behind that bunch of green broom,
𝄆 All for to hear what her own true love would say
When he awoke out of his domestic sleep. 𝄇
He said, “If I had been awake, instead of being asleep,
My will I would have done toward thee.
𝄆 Your blood, it would have been spilled, for those small birds to drink,
And your flesh it would have been for their food.” 𝄇
“ You hard-hearted young man, how can you say so?
Your heart it must be hard as any stone,
𝄆 For to murder the one who loved you so well,
Far better than the ground that you stand on. 𝄇
“Nine times of this bell did I ring, master,
Nine times of this whip did I crack.
𝄆 Nine times did I say, awake, master,
For your own true love is standing nearby.” 𝄇
Malinky sing Broomfield Hill
“I’ll wager, I’ll wager wi’ you, fair maid
Five hundred merks and ten
That ye winna go tae the bonnie broom fields
And return back a maiden again”
Chorus (after each verse):
Leatherum thee thou and aw
Madam, I’m wi’ you
And the seal o’ me be abrachee
Fair maiden, I’m for you
“I’ll wager, I’ll wager wi’ you, kind sir
Five hundred merks and ten
That I will go tae the bonnie broom fields
And return back a maiden again”
When she cam tae the bonnie broom hills
Her lover lay fast asleep
Wi’ his silvery bells and the gay old oak
And the broomstick under his heid
Nine times ’roond the croon o’ his heid
And nine times ’roond his feet
Nine times she kissed his rosy lips
And his breath wis wondrous sweet
She’s taen the ring frae her finger
Placed it on his breist bane
And a’ for a token that she’d been there
That she’d been there and gane
Greetin’, oh greetin’ gaed she oot
An’ a-singin’ cam she in
’Twas a’ for the safety o’ her body
And the wager she had won
“Whaur wis ye, ma bonnie gray hound
That I coft ye sae dear?
Ye didna wauken me frae ma sleep
Whan ye kent ma love was here”
“I scraped ye wi’ ma fit, maister
And ma collar bell, it rang
And still the mair that I did scrape
Awauken wid ye nane”
“Haste and haste, ma gude white steed
Tae come the maiden till
Or a’ the birds o’ the gude green wood
O’ your flesh shall hae their fill”
“Ye needna burst yer gude white steed
Wi’ racing ower the howm
Nae bird flies faster through the wood
Than she fled through the broom”
Bellowhead sing Broomfield Hill
“A wager, a wager,
Five hundred pound and ten
That you’ll not go to the Broomfield Hill
And a maid return again.”
And oh she cried and oh she sighed
And oh she made her moan,
Saying, “Shall I go to the Broomfield Hill
Or shall I stay at home?
“For if I go to the Broomfield Hill
My maidenhead is gone,
But if I chance to stay at home
Why then I am forsworn.”
Chorus:
There’s thirteen months all in one year
I’ve heard people say,
But the finest month in all the year
Is the very merry month of May.
And up there spoke an old witch woman
As she sits all alone,
Saying, “You shall go to the Broomfield Hill
And a maid you shall return.
“For when you get to the Broomfield Hill
You will find your love asleep,
With his silken gown all under his head
And a broom-cow at his feet.
“You take the blossom from off of the broom,
The blossom that smells so sweet,
And you lay it down all under his head
And more at the soles of his feet.”
(Chorus)
And when she got to the Broomfield Hill
She found her love asleep,
With his hawk and his hound and his silk satin gown
And his ribbons all down to his feet.
She’s taken the blossom from off of the broom,
The blossom that smells so sweet,
And the more she lay it round about
The sounder he did sleep.
She’s taken the ring from off of her finger
And laid it at his right hand
For to let him know when he awoke
That she’d been there at his command.
(Chorus)
“O where were you, my good grey steed
That I have loved so dear?
Why did you not stamp and waken me
When there was a maiden here?“
“O I stamped with my feet, master,
And all my bells I rang,
But there was nothing could waken you
Till she had been and gone.”
“O haste, haste, my good grey steed
For to come where she may be,
Or all the birds of the Broomfield Hill
Will eat their fill of thee.”
“O you need not break your good grey steed
By racing to her home;
There’s no bird flies faster through the wood
Than she flew through the broom.”
(Chorus)
Acknowledgements
Garry Gillard transcribed Martin Carthy’s version of Broomfield Hill. Thanks to Kevin Sexton for sending me Gordon Hall’s lyrics.