Notes and Things

the albion country band
the battle of the field
Albion Sunrise
Morris Medley
I Was A Young Man
New St. George/La Rotta
Gallant Poacher
Cheshire Rounds/The Old Lancashire Hornpipe
Hanged I Shall Be
Reaphook and Sickle
Battle Of The Somme
A Little Music or The Delights of Harmony
Stroll On
Notes and Things
The Back Cover

[Trad., Child #53]

Lord Bateman

Lord Bateman was a noble lord
A noble lord of some high degree
He shipped himself on board a ship
Some foreign count-e-ries he would go see

He sail-ed east, and he sail-ed west
Until he came to p-roud Turkey
Where he was taken and put in prison
Until his life it-e-grew quite weary

And in this prison there grew a tree
It grew so large and it grew so strong
Where he was chain-ed around the middle
Until his life it-e-was almost gone

His jailer had but one only daughter
The fairest creature my two eyes did see
She stole the keys of her father's prison
And said Lord Bateman she would set free

Now have you houses have you got land
And does Northumberland belong to thee?
And what would you give to the fair young lady
That out of prison would set you free?

Yes I've got houses and I've got land
And half Northumberland belongs to me
I would give it all to that fair young lady
That out of prison would set me free.

She took him to her marble parlor,
She gave him cake and a bottle of wine,
And every health that she drank unto him,
I wish, Lord Bateman, that you were mine.

And it's seven long years I'll make a vow,
And seven long years I will keep it strong,
If you will wed with no other woman,
Then I'll not wed with no other man.

She took him to her father's harbor,
She gave to him a ship of fame,
Farewell and adieu to you, Lord Bateman,
I fear I'll never see you again.

Now the seven long years were past and gone,
And fourteen days, well-known to me,
She set her foot all in a ship,
And said Lord Bateman she would go see.

And when she's come to Lord Bateman's castle,
She knocked so loudly upon the pin,
And who should come down but the proud young porter,
To rise and let this fair lady in.

Is this here Lord Bateman's castle,
And is Lord Bateman here within?
Oh yes, oh yes, said the proud young porter,
He's just now taken his new bride in.

Tell him to bring me a loaf of bread,
A bottle of the very best wine,
And not to forget the fair young lady
As did release him when close confined.

What news, what news, my proud young porter?
What news, what news? Now, tell to me.
There is the fairest of all young ladies
As ever my two eyes did see.

She bid you send her a loaf of bread,
A bottle of the very best wine,
And not to forget the fair young lady
As did release you when close confined.

Lord Bateman he flew in a passion,
He broke the table in splinters three,
I'll wager all my father's lands and riches
That my Sophia has come from sea.

Then up and spoke the young bride's mother,
Who never was known to speak so free,
What will you do for my only daughter,
If your Sophia has come from sea?

I own I wed your only daughter,
She's neither the better nor the worse for me,
She came to me on a horse and saddle,
She shall ride home in a carriage and three.

Then he's prepared another wedding,
And both their hearts so full of glee,
Oh, never more will I sail the ocean,
Now my Sophia has come to me.

Tinder Box was a duo with Steve Ashley and Dave Menday before Steve went solo, before the Albion Country Band Mk 1 and long before Ragged Robin. This track is an out-take from the Stroll On sessions. It was included one year later on the famous anthology Electric Muse: The Story of Folk Into Rock and finally appeared in 1999 as bonus track on the CD re-issue Stroll On Revisited.

Spirit of Christmas
(Steve Ashley)

I am the ghost of Christmas past,
The flicker within the fireplace,
Plucking the letter from the hearth,
Floating it on a snowflake.
The man that pulls the bell rope down
Knows well that I am the ringer.
Carol singers in the town
Will tell you that I'm the singer.

I am the ghost of Christmas past,
Haunting in the evening.
In wintertime the paths are dark
And travellers think they see things.
I am the lonely cartwheel leaf,
The creaking in the branches.
I am the cheeky headscarf thief,
Teaching the trees their dances.

I am the ghost of Christmas past,
Pleasure within the giver,
Glowing within the welcome glass,
The quiver within the shiver.
I am the mitten on the hand,
The head in the balaclava.
I am the goodwill in the land,
The invisible Christmas father.


collected and collated by
Francis James Child between the years

massive thanks go out to
 coramunroe for the you tube video feeds
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