Songs in Stories, Stories in Songs
Something a little different today.
I stumbled across this old gem whilst wandering around the internets late one night. It's a ballad called Long Lankin. The most common versions are about a stonemason who takes revenge on a Lord for not paying the mason for his work. The mason enters the dwelling he built, sometimes through a secret catch or entry he designed, and lures the Lady downstairs by poking her infant over and over again with a needle, causing him to scream in pain of course. The wet nurse caring for the child calls for the madam to come down because she can't get the baby to stop crying. The mason then kills both the baby and the mother. He is punished for his deeds, usually through hanging, along with the wet nurse. Nothing more is said of the Lord whose refusal to pay caused all of this mess in the first place.
That this was a popular ballad, sung by women no less, is something of a head-scratcher for me. Why would women want to sing a song about a treacherous nurse, the killing of a Lady, and hangings?
There are other notable versions and histories of the ballad out there, such as the roots of this ballad may have something to do with old rituals of 'blooding the foundations' of new buildings with a sacrifice, and the mason in some versions is a leper who used a silver basin to catch the blood of the baby as a possible cure for his disease. But I get ahead of myself...
Here is the ballad, sung by the band Steeleye Span, for your ears to feast on. Lyrics below the lace picture, which I promise will make sense down the road.
Long Lankin
Said my lord to my lady, as he mounted his horse:
"Beware of Long Lankin that lives in the moss."
Said my lord to my lady, as he rode away:
"Beware of Long Lankin that lives in the hay."
"Let the doors be all bolted and the windows all pinned,
And leave not a hole for a mouse to creep in."
So he kissed his fair lady and he rode away,
And he was in fair London before the break of day.
The doors were all bolted and the windows all pinned,
Except one little window where Long Lankin crept in.
"Where's the lord of this house?" Said Long Lankin,
"He's away in fair London." said the false [wet] nurse to him.
"Where's the little heir of this house ?" said Long Lankin.
"He's asleep in his cradle," said the false nurse to him.
"We'll prick him, we'll prick him all over with a pin,
And that'll make my lady to come down to him.'
So he pricked him, he pricked him all over with a pin,
And the nurse held the basin for the blood to flow in.
"O nurse, how you slumber. O nurse, how you sleep.
You leave my little son Johnson to cry and to weep."
"O nurse, how you slumber, O nurse how you snore.
You leave my little son Johnson to cry and to roar."
"I've tried him with an apple, I've tried him with a pear.
Come down, my fair lady, and rock him in your chair."
"I've tried him with milk and I've tried him with pap.
Come down, my fair lady, and rock him in your lap."
"How durst I go down in the dead of the night
Where there's no fire a-kindled and no candle alight?"
"You have three silver mantles as bright as the sun.
Come down, my fair lady, all by the light of one."
My lady came down, she was thinking no harm
Long Lankin stood ready to catch her in his arm.
Here's blood in the kitchen. Here's blood in the hall
Here's blood in the parlour where my lady did fall.
Her maiden looked out from the turret so high
And she saw her master from London riding by.
"O master, O master, don't lay the blame on me
'Twas the false nurse and Lankin that killed your lady."
Long Lankin was hung on a gibbet so high
And the false nurse was burnt in a fire close by.
There are many versions of this song, once used by European lace workers in the 18th century as a 'lace tell', a tune to keep their fingers fiddling in correct cadence. The version above is from The Penguin Book of English Folk Songs, by Williams and Lloyd. The list of songs inside can be found here.
"Beware of Long Lankin that lives in the moss."
Said my lord to my lady, as he rode away:
"Beware of Long Lankin that lives in the hay."
"Let the doors be all bolted and the windows all pinned,
And leave not a hole for a mouse to creep in."
So he kissed his fair lady and he rode away,
And he was in fair London before the break of day.
The doors were all bolted and the windows all pinned,
Except one little window where Long Lankin crept in.
"Where's the lord of this house?" Said Long Lankin,
"He's away in fair London." said the false [wet] nurse to him.
"Where's the little heir of this house ?" said Long Lankin.
"He's asleep in his cradle," said the false nurse to him.
"We'll prick him, we'll prick him all over with a pin,
And that'll make my lady to come down to him.'
So he pricked him, he pricked him all over with a pin,
And the nurse held the basin for the blood to flow in.
"O nurse, how you slumber. O nurse, how you sleep.
You leave my little son Johnson to cry and to weep."
"O nurse, how you slumber, O nurse how you snore.
You leave my little son Johnson to cry and to roar."
"I've tried him with an apple, I've tried him with a pear.
Come down, my fair lady, and rock him in your chair."
"I've tried him with milk and I've tried him with pap.
Come down, my fair lady, and rock him in your lap."
"How durst I go down in the dead of the night
Where there's no fire a-kindled and no candle alight?"
"You have three silver mantles as bright as the sun.
Come down, my fair lady, all by the light of one."
My lady came down, she was thinking no harm
Long Lankin stood ready to catch her in his arm.
Here's blood in the kitchen. Here's blood in the hall
Here's blood in the parlour where my lady did fall.
Her maiden looked out from the turret so high
And she saw her master from London riding by.
"O master, O master, don't lay the blame on me
'Twas the false nurse and Lankin that killed your lady."
Long Lankin was hung on a gibbet so high
And the false nurse was burnt in a fire close by.
There are many versions of this song, once used by European lace workers in the 18th century as a 'lace tell', a tune to keep their fingers fiddling in correct cadence. The version above is from The Penguin Book of English Folk Songs, by Williams and Lloyd. The list of songs inside can be found here.
Upon further diving, I discovered a few other possible meanings for the words of the song and came up with an interesting story idea. What if the song were a hidden lace pattern? See if you can follow the crumbs as I weave together true facts and fiction and create a story from a song, but not the one you hear...
The name Lankin (in some versions the name changes to lambkin and other names which further muddle possible meanings) can be tied to Lanking pins, which are pins that have a conspicuous head, placed along the foot and the head of the lace in order to keep a firm edge. There are also Long Toms, which is a name for general purpose pins. Could the name Long Lankin be a combination of these two terms, and meant to tell a lace worker what pins to use? All without a non-lace worker's knowledge?
The whole ballad then becomes a hidden lace pattern. Start working on the 'building', maybe some fundamental lace pattern that all lace workers would know. It has an lower and upper floor, so maybe it has two main portions or patterns? Then the lace worker stops at a certain point and 'asks for payment' (the main pattern is stopped and the lace worker switches to something else, maybe takes a break, maybe uses a different type of thread, starts a frill pattern or a simple pattern known as the Cheapskate).
No payment is forthcoming, so we sneak in (start a new lace that interlaces with the main base pattern at a certain point) and 'poke the baby' over and over (not sure what this would correspond with, maybe some very delicate or intricate work at the heart of the pattern or along the bottom portion of the main pattern). The wet nurse on the main floor (a specific lower portion of the main pattern such as a rose or design) calls the Lady down (maybe Lady refers to a rose or design that's fancier than the wet nurse, and calling the Lady down means attaching a portion of the upper part of the lace pattern with the invasive stitching)?
Can you see the story and lace pattern coming together? Other key words in the ballad can direct the lace worker to add certain flourishes or details. I am not sure what this pattern creates, but I could see it being used in a story somewhere as a way for a seemingly harmless lady creating something plot-advancing.
When writing tunes for your own manuscripts, keep in mind that they should do something more than entertain musically. Does the song move the plot along? Does it provide background, world-building, or another way to dump information? As long as it serves some function, then go ahead!
And now I got to get on this hidden lace story!
Happy writing to all!
