> Peter Bellamy > Songs > Lord Lovel

Lord Lovel

[ Roud 48 ; Child 75 ; Ballad Index C075 ; trad.]

This tragic ballad appeared in print for the first time at about 1770. According to F.J. Child it is made up of several other ballads including Lord Thomas and Fair Eleanor ( Child 73 ), Lady Maisry ( Child 65 ), Death and the Lady, and Barbara Allen ( Child 84 ).

Ethel Findlater from Orkey sang Lord Lovel on the record The Child Ballads 1 (The Folk Songs of Britain Volume 4, Caedmon 1961, Topic 1968), and Dave Burland sang Lord Lovel in 1971 on his first Trailer LP, A Dalesman's Litany.

Peter Bellamy sang Lord Lovel unaccompanied in a recording of unknown origin, possibly from the Peter Bellamy recording sessions; at least it was included on that album's CD reissue as part of the Fair Annie 2CD set.

Jeannie Robertson sang a Scottish version as Lord Lovat on her eponymous Topic LP of 1963, Jeannie Robertson. Hamish Henderson commented in the album's sleeve notes:

Better known as Lord Lovel, this classic ballad—number 75 in Child's collection—is still very popular in Aberdeenshire. Professor Child included ten versions of this ballad in his great textual compilation The English and Scottish Popular Ballads, and most texts collected in modern times, as well as the one sung here, appear to have derived from Child's “H” text, a London broadside published in 1846. The English Lord Lovel has in Scotland become Lord Lovat—not unnaturally, for the latter is a famous name in the Highlands. The Lord Lovat of the 1745 rebellion, redoubtable chief of the clan Fraser, was beheaded on Tower Hill in 1747. Hogarth painted a celebrated portrait of hime while he was in captivity awaiting trial.

The ballad has been a popular in both America and Britain. Most versions here have a bouncing melody completely out of context with the tragic seriousness of the ballad tales; Jeannie's version, however, is cloaked in the proper solemnity.

Lyrics

Peter Bellamy sings Lord Lovel

Lord Lovel he stood at his own castle gate
Combing his milk-white steed,
And by came Lady Nancy Belle
To bid Lord Lovel good speed, good speed.
To bid Lord Lovel good speed.

“And where are you going, Lord Lovel?”, she said,
“And where are you going?”, said she.
“I'm leaving, my Lady Nancy Belle,
Strange countries for to see, to see,
Strange countries for to see.”

“Well, how long you'll be gone Lord Lovel?”, she said,
How long you'll be gone?”, said she.
“In a year or two, or three at the most,
I'll return to my Lady Nancy, Nancy,
Return to my Lady Nancy.”

But he'd not been gone for a year and a day,
Strange countries for to see,
When a sudden thought it came into his mind,
He'd return to his Lady Nancy, Nancy,
He'd return to his Lady Nancy.

So he rode and he rode on his milk-white steed
Until he came to London Town;
And there he heard them church bells ring
And the people in mourning around, around,
The people in mourning around.

“Ah! who is dead?”, Lord Lovel he cried,
“Ah! who is dead?”, said he.
“Well, a lady is dead,” an old woman said,
And they call her the Lady Nancy, Nancy,
They call her the Lady Nancy.”

Well he ordered the coffin to be opened wide
And the shroud to be cast'd around;
And there he kissed her clay-cold cheeks
While tears came trickling down, down, down,
While tears came trickling down.

Now Lady Nancy, she died as it might be today,
And Lord Lovel died as tomorrow.
Lady Nancy died of a broken heart,
Lord Lovel he died from sorrow, from sorrow,
Lord Lovel he died from sorrow.

And they buried Lady Nancy in the higher chancel,
They buried Lord Lovel the lower,
And out of her bosom there grew a red rose,
And out of Lord Lovel sweet briar, sweet briar,
And out of Lord Lovel sweet briar.

And out of her bosom there grew a red rose,
And out of Lord Lovel sweet briar,
And they growed and they growed to the top of the church
Till they could not grow no higher, no higher,
Till they could not grow no higher.

Yes they growed and they growed to the top of the church
Until they could not grow no higher.
And it's there they entwined in a true lover's knot
For true lovers all to admire, admire,
For true lovers all to admire.