My heart it lies on him, it will not remove
The Lass of Loch Royal
As Hamish Henderson noted in the link we discussed in the post that started this week with the deception May Margaret’s mother perpetrates on Willie matches that found in “Lord Gregory” (lyrics) or “The Lass of Loch Royal” (Child 76). In “Lord Gregory,” a young woman approaches the home of Lord Gregory, bearing her baby “cold” in her arms, presumably the child of Lord Gregory. In this case, Lord Gregory’s mother deceives the young woman into believing that he is not there and has gone off to wed another. She leaves in despair, with the intention, or at least the result, of ending her life. Lord Gregory awakes in most versions to discover his mother’s deception, and takes off after his lover, presumably to share her fate.
MacEdward Leach |
MacEdward Leach writes of “The Lass of Loch Royal”:
This ballad is rather rare in spite of the fact that it is a moving and tragic story. No continental version exists, and only a few in America. However, the Who will shoe my bonny feet? stanzas …are very widely known. They are sung alone in America as lyric, are combined with other songs at will. Whether these stanzas are original with this ballad or not is hard to determine. Most versions begin with them as a kind of motivation for her setting out.
Robert Burns |
If it was true at the time of Leach’s book (1955) that the ballad was rare, it has done some catching up. There are many more recorded versions of this song to be found than of “Drowned Lovers.” Although the mother’s intentions are cruel, they are less clearly murderous than the curse of Willie’s mother. This song is closer to “Barbara Allen” than it is to “Fair Ellender.” It’s lack of popularity in Leach’s estimation is somewhat surprising, given that Robert Burns penned his own, compressed version of the ballad as a short poem in 1793.
We may return to this particular ballad at a later date, despite its tangential tie to the core of our genre, and there’s not time to do it justice here with a fully curated exploration. I’ll post a few performances worthy of note, starting with The Corries. This a remarkably good bit of Scots ballad singing, with an excellent deployment of supporting instruments.
“Lord Gregory,” by the Corries (Spotify)
Ewan MacColl gives us a solo, unaccompanied version:
Ewan MacColl |
“Lord Gregory/The Lass of Loch Royal (Child 76)” by Ewan MacColl (Spotify)
Judy Collins’s performance is haunting…perhaps it’s helpful to hear this song above the baritone/tenor range.
“Lord Gregory,” by Judy Collins (Spotify)
Judy Collins |
Annachie Gordon
Martin Carthy’s liner notes to his recording of “Clyde Water” commented on it as follows:
Clyde’s Water is an astonishing song of iron parental control. There is no question of the iron fist being encased in a velvet glove—the glove too is made of iron. I don’t think I have ever heard a song so relentless or so pared down.
It’s hard for me to believe that he would not have heard “Annachie Gordon” by the time he made those comments. Perhaps he doesn’t consider “Annachie Gordon” relentless or pared down in the same way, but for a song that portrays the tragedy and epic sadness of “iron parental control,” there is no song that I can think of that outdoes “Annachie Gordon.” (or “Lord Saultoun and Auchanichie” [Child 239]). [By the way, you may notice here and there in my posts that my spelling of some song titles varies. I usually pick a preferred spelling when I refer to the song generally, but defer to the spelling associated with any performance link I post.]
“Anachie Gordon,” by Mary Black (Spotify) (Lyrics)
Beyond thwarting Jeannie’s romantic longings, her father’s cruelty goes to truly inhuman levels, at least to contemporary ears. Really folks, there is a lot of tough stuff on this blog, but this song is to my mind the toughest yet–in terms of the emotional violence, as distinct from the physical. I can’t even write about it in full detail. It breaks my heart, every time.
The YouTube clip above alleges that the song is Irish. While Mary Black is Irish, the song is almost certainly Scottish–although the Traditional Ballad Index linked above suggests a possible link to a Swedish ballad entitled “Proud Ingrid.” That being said, Sinead O’Connor provides another strong Irish performance in collaboration with Sharon Shannon.
Nic Jones’s version appears to be the primary contemporary source for most arrangements of the song performed today. Mr. Jones has been popping up all over in our recent posts. I can’t find a streamable or YouTube version of Jones’s performance from his 1977 album “The Noah’s Ark Trap.” Fortunately, John Wesley Harding included it on his Nic Jones tribute album Trad arr Jones.
Wesley Stace/John Wesley Harding |
“Annachie Gordon,” by John Wesley Harding (Spotify)
There is more to explore with this ballad, including that the first professional recording of a variant of this song was made by Berzilla Wallin, on Old Love Songs and Ballads from the Big Laurel, North Carolina, in 1964. Wallin’s version is entitled “Johnny Doyle.” The perspective and some of the story elements are different, but the root story of the forced marriage is there.
“Johnny Doyle,” by Berzilla Wallin (Spotify)
Wallin was a relative of ballad singer Sheila Kay Adams. Adams describes an episode of Wallin singing this ballad below. The clip has nothing to do with the song itself, but a lot to do with the transmission of the song between generations.
Surprise Endings
The King has been away, and comes back to find that his only daughter is ought of sorts. He’s suspicious that she has been seduced and is pregnant. He forces an examination of her condition by asking her to take off her gown so that he may judge her condition. Finding her pregnant, she is forced to identify the father. She identifies Willy O’ Winsbury. Recipe for disaster, right? Being named “Willy” in a folk song is about as risky as wearing a red shirt on an away team in Star Trek, right?
Well, here we have a surprise. “Willy o’ Winsbury” is Child 100. I first heard it through Richard Thompson’s performance from the box set RT.
I didn’t intentionally line this post up to publish on International Women’s Day, but that’s how it has turned out. Since it has, I will mention what is probably obvious in all of this–that the tragedy (or potential tragedy) of these songs is driven by social constructs that view marriage primarily as a means for organizing and/or transferring wealth, property, and reputation; and, importantly, that the harsher burdens of this arrangement are borne disproportionately by women. I invite you to consider what force these songs, in their tragedy, pathos, and beauty, have had in informing the moral sensibilities of listeners as their stories are sung and re-sung through the years.
This will be the last main post for the week. I hope to have another interlude shortly, but Pat and Shaleane will take up the reins for the next few weeks. Thanks for reading and for your comments (mostly on our Facebook posts) this week. Don’t forget to “like” us on Facebook, as we often post additional content to our page there.