Quick: Think of all the lost love songs you know. There are zillions of them, right?
Well, maybe not. At least not for me. A few weeks back, I was trying to think of a traditional lost love song. Any traditional lost love song. It took a while. Eventually I thought of some (mostly from Ireland), but the sort of weepy "My-baby-done-left-me-I'll-go-watch-the-trucks-drive-by" song that Nashville loves is very rare. Most traditional lost love songs have a twist. Somebody's dead, or pregnant, or off across the ocean somewhere. So, from now on, I am going to define a lost love song as a song in which somebody wants somebody else who, for whatever reason, is not available.
By that standard, The Death of Queen Jane (Child #170) is a good traditional lost love song. Both husband and infant child lose someone they love -- in this case, to the rigors of pregnancy.
I never thought of this as an American song until a few weeks ago, when I picked up the Smithsonian/Folkways reissue "Ballads, Banjo Tunes, and Sacred Songs of Western North Carolina," sung by Bascom Lamar Lunsford (SF 40082 -- a great record reviewed in this issue). That set me researching, and it turns out that "Queen Jane" has been found several times on this side of the water. Cecil Sharp picked up a good version in Kentucky and a much more heavily folk-processed one in Virginia (in the latter, the song begins "Oh, Jane was a neighbor for six months or more"! Alternate verses use a sort of refrain of "The red rose of England shall flourish no more"; this appears to be related to the much shorter Lunsford version).
Unfortunately, I haven't learned any of those versions yet, so the form I give here I picked up from Joan Sprung; I don't know her source. She recorded it with (I kid you not) violin and bowed bass. Despite this unusual instrumentation, it is a truly lovely melody.
The guitar part here isn't the best; this piece desperately calls out for a fiddle as well as guitar. If you don't have a fiddle player handy, I'd play rolling arpeggios.
The earliest known copy of this song comes from the Percy collection (1776), but the events are older. Jane Seymour was the third wife of Henry VIII of England. In 1537 she was pregnant with the future Edward VI. She gave birth naturally, but died less that two weeks afterward, giving rise to rumors of a difficult childbirth.
The legend of Henry VIII's intense love for Jane is perhaps a bit
overblown.
Henry was desperate for a son to carry on his line, but it wasn't easy.
He had gotten his first wife, Catherine of Aragon, pregnant many times,
but only one child (Mary) survived. Then he married Anne Boleyn, and
she
too suffered a miscarriage and bore only one live child (Elizabeth).
But
Henry had an illegitimate son, so he figured he'd keep trying. Jane
Seymour
bore him his desired son, but Edward VI only lived to be sixteen. And
Mary
and Elizabeth both seem to have been barren (Mary certainly was). So
much
for Henry's dynastic plans. At least he got a great song out of it....
Queen Jane lay in labor
Full nine days or more,
Till the women were so tired
They could stay no longer there;
Till the women were so tired
They could stay no longer there.
"Good women, good women,
Good women as ye be,
Do open my right side
And find my baby."
"Oh no," said the women,
"That may never be;
We will send for King Henry,
And hear what he say."
King Henry was sent for,
King Henry he did come;
"What do ail you, my lady,
Your eyes look so dim?"
"King Henry, King Henry,
Will you do one thing for me?
That's to open my right side
And find my baby."
"Oh no," said King Henry,
"That's a thing I'll never do!
If I lose the Flower of England,
I shall lose the branch too."
Queen Jane she turned over
And she fell into a swoon,
And her side was piercéd open
And the baby was found.
King Henry went mourning
And so did all his men --
And so did the baby,
For Queen Jane did die then.
How deep was the mourning,
How black were all the bands
How yellow were the flamboys*
They carried in their hands.
There was fiddling and dancing
On the day that the babe was born
But poor Queen Jane beloved
Lay cold as a stone.
* Flamboys: flambeaux=torches
Those who wish to see the Folk Process in action may wish to look at Lunsford's text of this song:
Well Jane was in labor for three days or more;
She grieved and she grieved and she grieved her heart sore.
She sent for her mother, her mother came o'er,
Said "The red rose of England shall flourish no more."
Well Jane was in labor for three days or four;
She grieved and she grieved and she grieved her heart sore.
She sent for her father, her father came o'er,
Said "The red rose of England shall flourish no more."
Well Jane was in labor for four days or more;
She grieved and she grieved and she grieved her heart sore.
She sent for Prince Henry, Prince Henry came o'er,
Said "The red rose of England shall flourish no more."
As usual with Child ballads, the basic reference is Child's The English and Scottish Popular Ballads. "Queen Jane" is #170. The largest set of texts and tunes is found in Bertrand Bronson's Traditional Tunes of the Child Ballads.
To date, the only American versions known come from the Appalachians and the Southeast. Cecil Sharp picked up several texts, which can be found in his various books of Appalachian songs. John Jacob Niles also had a version, but one can never be sure if his versions are retouched.
Collectors should be aware of another song which shares lyrics with Queen Jane. Variously called Six Dukes Went A-Fishing, Two Dukes, The Duke of Bedford, The Duke of Grafton, The Duke of Grantham, and probably a dozen other names I don't know, it refers to the body of a noble washed up on the shore. It is about as common as Queen Jane, though differently distributed (e.g. it has been found in New England), but is unrelated except for some floating lyrics about dead bodies.
Return to the Remembering the Old Songs page.