Three Ravens (Child 26)

North of the border, this ballad evolved into the Twa Corbies, the most familiar version of which is a folk revival setting to the tune of a Breton liberation song. Prof. Bronson was unimpressed with Twa Corbies, finding it guilty, compared with its English ancestor, of “sweeping away tenderness and replacing it with an alien and reckless cynicism.” In England, Three Ravens presents a fairly simple picture: just two versions of any substance are included in Bronson, from Ravenscroft (1611) and Kidson (1891). Ravenscroft’s is the more archaic, with the slain knight besieged by a veritable menagerie including hounds, hawk and a mysterious, heavily pregnant “fallow doe”. Although I’ve come across speculation that the doe is exactly what it says on the tin, and that some kind of throwback to a prehistoric reindeer cult lies behind the ballad, the more likely explanation is that the doe is a metaphor. This is supported by the Kidson text, in which it’s the dead chap’s lady-friend that arrives amidst much wailing and teeth-gnashing.

I have to confess that, in this case, I broke all my own rules about ballad singing, and chose Three Ravens as a promising vehicle for a heavy metal musical arrangement, rather than on its own merits. “Derry down” is a perfectly respectable refrain that occurs in various folk songs without attracting ridicule, but in the context of the rather literary and romantic Ravenscroft text it’s a bit too “hey nonny nonny” for my liking. So my rendition is slightly tongue-in-cheek - at least it was until Brian Bedford and I really started to enjoy the layering and the screams of feedback from my long-suffering Strat copy and Marshall combo. For the record, the tune I use is Kidson’s, as are verses 5 and 7, and the remaining verses are all from Ravenscroft, with small amendments.