Lord Thomas- Hayes (ME) 1942 Flanders E
[From Flanders' Ancient Ballads, 1966. Notes by Coffin/Flanders follow. This version closely follows the English broadside, Child D.
R. Matteson 2014]
Lord Thomas and Fair Annet
(Child 73)
Child prints nine versions of "Lord Thomas and Fair Eleanor" or "The Brown Girl" as the ballad is so frequently called; all but one are Scottish. However, this one, Child D, a seventeenth-century English broadside, seems to be the progenitor of the entire American and modern British stock of the song. Child D variants have been found frequently on both sides of the Atlantic, and this circulation no doubt accounts not only for the fact most informants know or can recognize the ballad, but also for the fact there is little difference in the ballad from one area to another.
Belden, 38, points out some of the major differences between the Scottish tradition and the American versions of the song. The Scottish opening, borrowed from "Fair Margaret and Sweet William" (Child 74), and the remarks exchanged between the women on the brown girl's complexion are both missing in this country, as may be the "rose-briar" cliche, common to Child 74 and Child 75 in "Lord Lovel"). Furthermore, the American hero himself and, not his messenger goes to see Eleanor, and he seeks advice from his mother, never other members of the family. As many texts in this country open with a description of Lord Thomas as a "bold forester," the phrase used in the Nafis and Cornish Forget-Me-Not Songster, there is little doubt this popular volume had much to do with the spread and consistency of the ballad throughout the States.
E. Lord Thomas and Fair Eleanor. Sung by Hanford Hayes of Stacyville, Maine. M. Olney, Collector; May 6, 1942. Structure: A1 B A2 C (2,2,2,2); Rhythm A; Conrour: arc; Scale: major; t.c. D. For mel. rel. see RO 1, 100. Sharp I, 115, 118, 119(D); SSC, I10, I 15;
Lord Thomas and Fair Eleanor
Lord Thomas he was a brave foreigner,[1]
The keeper of all (the) King's trees;
Fair Eleanor was a fair ladye;
Lord Thomas, he loved her dear.
"Come riddle, come riddle, dear mother," said he,
"Come riddle it all in one.
Oh, shall I marry Fair Eleanor dear,
Or bring the Brown Girl home?"
"The Brown Girl, she has houses and land;
Fair Eleanor she has none.
Before I'll give you my blessing,
Go bring the Brown Girl home."
He dressed himself in scarlet red,
His merrymens all in green,
And ever-y town that he rode through,
They took him to be some king.
He rode till he came to Fair Eleanor's hall,
He jibbled so loud on the ring.
There was none so ready as Fair Eleanor herself
To rise and let him in.
"Oh, what's the good news, Lord Thomas?" she said,
"Oh, what's the good news for me?"
"I have come to bid you to my wedding."
"Bad news, bad news," cries she,
"For once I expected to be your bride
And you for to be the bride's groom."
"Come riddle, come riddle, dear mother," said she,
"Come riddle it all in one.
Oh, shall I go to Lord Thomas' wedding,
Or shall I stay at home?"
"There's thousands of your friends, you know,
Ten thousand of your foes.
Before I'll give to you my blessing,
To Lord Thomas' wedding don't go!"
She dressed herself in scarlet red,
Her merry maids all in green,
And every town that she rode through,
They took her to be some queen.
She rode till she came to Lord Thomas' hall,
She cabled so loud on the ring.
There was none so ready as Lord Thomas himself
To rise and let her in.
He took her by the lily-white hand,
He led her across the hall.
He placed her on the former sear
'Longside of the ladies all.
"Is this your bride, Lord Thomas?', she said
"She appears to be wonderful brown.
You might have had as fair a lady
As ever the sun shone on."
"Oh, don't despise her, Fair Eleanor, dear,
Oh, don't despise her to me,
For once I loved your little finger
More than her whole bodie."
"Oh, what's the matter, Fair Eleanor, dear?
You appear to be wonderful pale,
For once your cheeks were cherry-rose red,
But now they are growing pale."
"Oh, what's the matter, Lord Thomas?" she said,
"You appear to be wonderful blind.
Why don't you see my own heart's blood
A-trinkelling down my gown?"
He took the sword out of the sheath.
He walk-ed across the hall.
He cut his own true lover's head off
And dashed it against the wall.
He put the hilt of his sword to the floor,
The point of it to his breast,
Saying, 'Was there ever three true lovers met,
So quickly put to rest?"