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Famous Flower of Serving Men

[Child 106; trad. arr. Martin Carthy]

This intriguing ballad was sung by Martin Carthy on his 1972 album Shearwater and reissued on the 4CD anthology The Carthy Chronicles. A slightly different live version of this song is on the BBC recording The Kershaw Sessions. Martin Carthy recorded it again in 2004 for his album Waiting for Angels with verses very similar to the BBC recording. and sang it live at Ruskin Mill in December 2004 and live in studio in July 2006 for the DVD Guitar Maestros.

Martin Carthy wrote in the original album's sleeve notes:

There is a whole group of songs and stories in which the heroine, seeking to hide some shame, takes on a disguise. In Fairy stories, this has come out in, among others, the German tale Catskin, and the English Cap O'Rushes (more properly Cap O'Ashes?). In song, one of the forms it has taken is the one known on broadsides as The Lady Turned Serving Man, and [known] in drastically curtailed form to Bishop Percy, Sir Walter Scott and Johnson as The Famous Flower of Serving Men or The Lament of the Border Widow. Having first read The Famous Flower and been fired with enthusiasm, I was sobered by reading the rather pedestrian text of the broadside, which immediately followed, and gave the story an ending, because it simply did not match - either in intensity or elegance - the considerably older, shortened version, and decided to try and tell it in my own way. The tune came from Hedy West, who sings it to an American song called The Maid of Colchester.

and Maggie Holland and John Tobler commented in the sleeve notes of the Mooncrest reissue of Shearwater:

By common consent, the finest piece on the album is Famous Flower of Serving Men. The plot (brace yourself!): a mother sends violent thugs to her daughter's house to kill her husband and baby. The young woman digs their graves, buries them, dries her tears, cuts off her hair and dresses herself as a man. She goes to work at the King's court, where the King falls in love with her although he thinks she is a man, so he makes her his chamberlain. The King goes hunting one day and is led deep into the forest, to the site of the graves, by a magical white hind. He is visited by a white dove who is the spirit of the murdered husband and tells him the whole story, whereupon the King rides home, swearing vengeance on the mother, and sweeps the Famous Flower of Serving Men into his arms, and has the mother taken prisoner and burned at the stake. No mention of happy ever afters. The song is utterly compelling, with its complex but hypnotic rhythm and the vivid images it inspires: “They left me nought to dig his grave but the bloody sword that slew my babe” - it could easily be the substance of a full length opera, a film, a classical ballet, and Shakespeare could have made a major play out of it. Carthy manages to convey all this immense drama and emotion in under ten minutes. A. L. “Bert” Lloyd (one of the doyens of English folk music) apparently once said something about this: one shouldn't be surprised at such a song being so many verses long, but that it should be so many verses short.

Martin Carthy also wrote in the sleeve notes of Waiting for Angels:

[...] The last song is The Famous Flower of Serving Men - which is very close to my heart. I first recorded it on a now unavailable album called Shearwater and felt that it was time to have another shot at it. Over time these big songs have a habit of revealing more of themselves to you and over the space of thirty years or more this is no exception. The Famous Flower is another name for the May flower which is a symbol of ill luck and mischief. This song is about terminal bullying, child killing, abject humilitation and shame, redemption and terrible revenge. And all in the name of justice. There's a fury in those first five verses which sends the same shiver through me as when I first read them in 1970. The parson who sent them to Sir Walter Scott never sent the rest (!) so I glued some bits together and made up chunks to tell a story which is clear and terrifying. How people do things like this to each other and survive such episodes is beyond me but they do, don't they?

The Shearwater track was re-released a lot of times: on two compilations by Steeleye Span & Co, Individually and Collectively and Time Span, on the Rhino anthology Troubadours of British Folk Vol. 1: Unearthing the Tradition and on a bunch of cheap compilations of tracks from the Mooncrest label, e.g. Folk Heartbeat: 16 Original Folk Classics, Folk Heritage, and Heart of England: The Legends of English Folk.

Lyrics

Notes

Notes by Greer Gilman

There is a live performance of this song on The Kershaw Sessions, with slight variations in the lyrics and a new last line, which Carthy now sings:

For the fire took first all on her cheek
And then it took all on her chin
It spat and it rang in her yellow hair
As there she burnt like hokey green

"Hokey green," says Martin Carthy, is hawthorn, "the flower of mischief and magic." In folklore, the whitethorn is an unchancy flower, the token of unwedded love, green gowns and May games; it is death to bring it in the house. Among its many names are: Whitethorn, Quickthorn, Hag Tree, and Scrog. Its leaves are Bread-and-Cheese; its fruits are Cat-Haws, Heg-Pegs, Arzy-garzies; and its blossom is called May (for its month of blooming) and--most aptly--Mother-Die.

There are good entries on hawthorn in:

Grigson, Geoffrey. The Englishman's Flora (London : J.M. Dent, 1987).
Mabey, Richard. Flora Britannica (London : Sinclair-Stevenson, 1996).
Vickery, Roy. A Dictionary of Plant Lore (Oxford University Press, 1985).

A philological note: In none of these, however, is it called “hokey green”; nor in Joseph Wright's great English Dialect Dictionary, though “by hokey!” is a petty oath. I'd love to know where that name came from.

A note from Jane Barrett

“Hokey Green” is in the glossary of the Child Ballads, and is there spelled “hoky-gren”, and is in the last four lines of the Scottish version “A” of Ballad #68, called Young Hunting. (These lines are almost the same as those used in the Kershaw version of Famous Flower of Serving Men):

And they hay put that lady in;
O it took upon her cheek, her cheek,
An it took upon her chin,
An it took on her fair body,
She burnt like hoky-gren.

In that story, the fire refused to burn the innocent woman, but consumed the real murderer of Young Hunting!

In the Child Ballad glossary, the entry for “hoky-gren” cites Jamieson as saying a hoakie is “a fire that has been covered up with cinders, when all the fuel has become red.” He also adds possible suggestions, with question marks, which leads me to believe that Professor Child was also a bit bamboozled by this strange term!

Acknowledgements

Transcription (with a couple of small corrections by Garry Gillard) and notes by Greer Gilman and Jane Barrett. Many thanks from Garry Gillard.

Shearwater version	The Kershaw Sessions version
My mother did me deadly spite For she sent thieves in the dark of night Put my servants all to flight They robbed my bower they slew my knight	My mother did me deadly spite For she sent thieves in the dark of night Put my servants all to flight They robbed my bower, they slew my knight
They couldn't do to me no harm So they slew my baby in my arm Left me naught to wrap him in But the bloody sheet that he lay in	They couldn't do to me no harm So they slew my baby in my arm Left me naught to wrap him in But the bloody sheet that he lay in
They left me naught to dig his grave But the bloody sword that slew my babe All alone the grave I made And all alone the tears I shed	They left me naught to dig his grave But the bloody sword that slew my babe All alone the grave I made And all alone the tears I shed
And all alone the bell I rang And all alone the psalm I sang I leaned my head all against a block And there I cut my lovely locks	And all alone the bell I rang And all alone the psalm I sang I leaned my head all against a block And there I cut my lovely locks
I cut my locks and I changed my name From Fair Eleanor to Sweet William Went to court to serve my king As the famous flower of serving men	I cut my locks and I changed my name From Fair Eleanor to Sweet William I went to court to serve my king As the famous flower of serving men
So well I served my lord, the king That he made me his chamberlain He loved me as his son The famous flower of serving men	So well I served my lord, the king That he made me his chamberlain He loved me as his son The famous flower of serving men
Oh oft time he'd look at me and smile So swift his heart I did beguile And he blessed the day that I became The famous flower of serving men	And oft time he'd look at me and smile So swift his heart I did beguile And he blessed the day that I became The famous flower of serving men
But all alone in my bed at e'en Oh there I dreamed a dreadful dream I saw my bed swim with blood And I saw the thieves all around my head	Oh but all alone in my bed at e'en There I dreamed a dreadful dream I saw my bed swim with blood I saw the thieves all around my head
Our king has to the hunting gone He's ta'en no lords nor gentlemen He's left me there to guard his home The famous flower of serving men	Our king has to the hunting gone He's ta'en no lords nor gentlemen He's left me there to guard his home The famous flower of serving men
Our king he rode the wood all around He stayed all day but nothing found And as he rode himself alone It's there he saw the milk white hind	Our king he rode the wood all around He stayed all day but nothing found And as he rode himself alone It's there he spied the milk white hind
Oh the hind she broke, the hind she flew The hind she trampled the brambles through First she'd mount, then she'd sound Sometimes before, sometimes behind	Oh the hind she broke, the hind she flew The hind she trampled the bramble through First she'd melt and then she'd sound Sometimes before, sometimes behind
Oh what is this, how can it be? Such a hind as this I ne'er did see Such a hind as this was never born I fear she'll do me deadly harm	Oh what is this, how can it be? Such a hind as this I ne'er did see Such a hind as this was never born I fear she'll do me deadly harm
And long, long did the great horse turn For to save his lord from branch and thorn And but long e'er the day was o'er It tangled all in his yellow hair	And long, long did the great horse turn For to save his lord from branch and thorn But long e'er the day was o'er They tangled all in his yellow hair
All in the glade the hind drew nigh And the sun grew bright all in their eye And he sprang down, sword drew She vanished there all from his view	And all in the glade the king drew nigh Where the hind stood bright all in his eye And he sprang down, sword [he] drew She vanished there all from his view
And all around the grass was green And all around where a grave was seen And he sat himself all on the stone Great weariness it seized him on	And all around the grass was green All around where a grave was seen He sat himself down on the stone Great weariness it seized him on
Great silence hung from tree to sky The woods grew still, the sun on fire As through the woods the dove he came As through the wood he made his moan	Great silence hung from tree to sky The woods grew still, the sun on fire As through the wood the dove he came As through the woods he made his moan
Oh, the dove, he sat down on a stone So sweet he looked, so soft he sang “Alas the day my love became The famous flower of serving men”	Oh the dove, he sat down on a stone So sweet he looked, so soft he sang, “Alas the day my love became The famous flower of serving men.”
The bloody tears they fell as rain As still he sat and still he sang “Alas the day my love became The famous flower of serving men”	Oh the bloody tears they fell as rain As still he sat and still he sang, “Alas the day my love became The famous flower of serving men.”
Our king cried out, and he wept full sore So loud unto the dove he did call “Oh pretty bird, come sing it plain”	Our king cried out, and he wept full sore So loud unto the dove he did call “O pretty bird, come sing it plain.”
“Oh it was her mother's deadly spite For she sent thieves in the dark of the night They come to rob, they come to slay They made their sport, they went their way	“Oh it was her mother's deadly spite For she sent thieves in the dark of the night They come to rob, they come to slay They made their sport, they went their way
“And don't you think that her heart was sore As she laid the mould on his yellow hair And don't you think her heart was woe As she turned her back away to go	“And don't you think that her heart was sore As she laid the mould on his yellow hair And don't you think her heart was woe As she turned about, all away to go
“And how she wept as she changed her name From Fair Eleanor to Sweet William Went to court to serve her king As the famous flower of serving men”	“And how she wept as she changed her name From Fair Eleanor to Sweet William, Went to court to serve her king As the famous flower of serving men.”
Oh the bloody tears they lay all around He's mounted up and away he's gone And one thought come to his mind The thought of her that was a man	Oh the bloody tears they lay all around He's mounted up and away he's gone One thought come to his mind The thought of her that was a man
And as he rode himself alone A dreadful oath he there has sworn And that he would hunt her mother down As he would hunt the wildwood swine	And as he's rode himself alone A dreadful oath he there has sworn That he would hunt her mother down Like he would hunt the wildwood swine
For there's four and twenty ladies all And they're all playing at the ball But fairer than all of them Is the famous flower of serving men	There's four and twenty ladies all And they're all playing at the ball Fairer than all of them Is the famous flower of serving men
Oh he's rode him into his hall And he's rode in among them all He's lifted her to his saddle brim And there he's kissed her cheek and chin	Our king rode him into his hall And he's rode in among them all Lifted her to his saddle brim He's kissed her there both cheek and chin
His nobles stood and they stretched their eyes The ladies took to their fans and smiled For such a strange homecoming No gentleman had ever seen	Oh, the lords all stood and they stretched their eyes The ladies took to their fans and smiled For a stranger homecoming No gentleman had ever seen
And he has sent his nobles all Unto her mother they have gone They've ta'en her that's did such wrong They've laid her down in prison strong	And he has sent his nobles all Unto her mother they have gone Ta'en her that did such wrong They've laid her down in a prison strong
And he's brought men up from the corn And he's sent men down to the thorn All for to build the bonfire high All for to set her mother by	And he's brought men up from the corn And he's sent men down to the thorn All for to build the bonfire high All for to set her mother by
All bonny sang the morning thrush All where he sat in yonder bush But louder did her mother cry In the bonfire where she burned close by	O bonnie sang the morning thrush All where he sat in yonder bush But louder did her mother cry In the bonfire where she burned close by
For there she stood all among the thorn And there she sang her deadly song “Alas the day that she became The famous flower of serving men”	Oh, for there she stood all among the thorn And there she sang her deadly song, “Alas the day that she became The famous flower of serving men.”
For the fire took first all on her cheek And then it took all on her chin It spat and rang in her yellow hair And soon there was no life left in	For the fire took first all on her cheek And then it took all on her chin Spat and it rang in her yellow hair As there she burnt like hokey green