PATRICK SPENCER ^^^
(Bob Coltman)

Oh, don't the moon look pretty, she sails like a ship in the sky,
Darling, you don't know nothing about sailing, she's got a cast in her eye,
When the moon weeps silvery tears, you can look for a terrible storm,
God pity the sailor that's out tomorrow, I'm glad I can bide at home.

If you be Patrick Spencer, and man, you better had be,
Here's a letter from the King, he commands you to go to sea,
How little he thinks of the dangers, among his wine and his song,
His daughter in far Norroway, she's sick and she wants to come home.

He might have written me greeting, he might have cast me blame,
He might have asked me a hundred favors, God knows I'd never complain,
But this running up in the rigging with a hurricane on the wing,
It's come to a matter of life and death to have to pleasure the King.

Standing out to sea, oh Lord, it commenced to rain,
The sea like the tops of mountains, and the wind like a thing in pain,
Patrick Spencer took his glass, and he put it in Johnny's hand,
Run up, Johnny, as high as you can, and see if you can see any land.

No land, Patrick Spencer, no never a sight of shore,
Then give it over, boys, he cried, we'll never see home anymore
Never mind your buckle shoes, for you'll wet more than your feet
And as for the letter from the King, it's a damn small winding sheet.

Christine be a long, long while a-waiting for me to come home,
And the cold, cold sea be a long, long time a-walking over my bones
That man that told the King about me, I wish I had him here
And the one last wish I would like to have granted is to carry him under with me.

(Sir Patrick Spens, No. 58)
I was surprised when I looked it up to find there's really not much historical basis for this song. History does give an occasion: the never fully explained loss of Princess Margaret, "the Maid of Norway", placing the Scots succession in jeopardy. The beloved King Alexander III had died of a fall from a horse pushing through Fife in a tempest, and Margaret, daughter of Eric King of Norway, was the nearest heir. Scots custom forbade a female sovereign, and civil war swirled around the dark figure of Robert the Bruce, who sought the throne. Edward I of England sent for Margaret out of Norway to marry his son and take the Scottish throne, but word came first that she would travel by land instead of sea, then that she was dead, of an illness that may or may not have been political. Foul play or fair, the succession failed, paving the way for the rising of William Wallace and the eventual succession of Robert. But what is the place of Spens in all this? A ship sent for Margaret indeed did fall foul of evil weather on the return trip, and many knights and nobles who were to have been her guard of honor were drowned. But there is no record of a Patrick Spens. There are local traditions surrounding the name: on the island of Papa Stronsey, roughly "half ower to Aberdour", there is a standing stone reputed to be Spens' grave, but then there are about a thousand Robin Hood's Hills, and look at all the places George Washington slept in. However it may really be, both the time of year and the weather omens were bad, the new moon holding the old in her arm, and the King in his safe warm apartments was like bosses everywhere: fazed not at all by hardship when subordinates can be ordered to undergo it. How many despots have lightly chosen men and women to throw into the jaws of death? And how do they sleep?

Child #58
@sea @Scots
filename[ PATSPEN2
JN


Son of Child CD Track 8