John Alfred George Lancefield, 1881-1959
Edward Ernest Lancefield, 1885-1954
Francis Collinson collected a handful of songs from John and Ted Lancefield in June and July 1942. At the time they were employed as gardeners at Goldenhurst, Noël Coward’s country home near Aldington. Collinson and Coward were both involved in musical theatre – indeed Collinson had been one of the conductors on the original cast recording of Noël Coward’s musical Operette in 1938. Francis Collinson’s home near Bethersden was less than a dozen miles from Goldenhurst, so it would be surprising if they had not socialised from time to time. Knowing of Collinson’s interest in hunting out old country songs, if Noël Coward knew that his gardeners were singers he would have no doubt have drawn this to Collinson’s attention. Or it may even be that Collinson, on a visit to Goldenhurst, heard a gardener singing and proceeded to investigate.
The Lancefield brothers were both born at Crundale. Their parents were William, an agricultural labourer, and Ann, née Coombs. John was born on 17th August 1881 and apparently baptised at St Mary’s, Crundale the same day. Ted was born 15th April 1885, and baptised on 14th June.
By 1901 the family had moved to Cherry Gardens, Aldington. Ted was living with his parents and, like his father, was an agricultural labourer. John was recorded as “General serv agricultural”, working for John Bailey, farmer, at Falconhurst, Hurst (a couple of miles South of Aldington, and actually very close to Goldenhurst). At the next census in 1911, and in 1921, John and Ted were both living with their mother, Ann – now a widow – at Peacock Cottage, Aldington. Having previously been listed as general agricultural workers, in the 1921 census John’s occupation was given as Cowman, and Ted’s as Horseman, both working for Wheatley Bros Farmers. The Wheatleys farmed at Goldenhurst Farm – Peacock Cottage was 2 minutes’ walk from the farmhouse, and was almost certainly part of the farm estate. Ann died in 1936, but the brothers remained in the house, with one other resident, Dorothy Hills, who was listed as “Housekeeper” in the 1939 Register (presumably for Noël Coward, not for the brothers!). John and Ted were both now shown as “Gardener Heavy Worker”.
Noël Coward had found Goldenhurst (now a Grade II listed building) in 1926 after he placed an advert in the Kentish Times. He rented the property at first, but purchased it in 1927, carrying out a considerable amount of rebuilding and renovation work. The property had extensive gardens – in 1956, in a letter to Laurence Olivier explaining why he was selling Goldenhurst and moving abroad, he stated that he employed “five gardeners all year round”. The Lancefields presumably worked for him as gardeners from the beginning of his time there.
During the Second World War Goldenhurst was requisitioned by the Army, and Coward moved to White Cliffs, a rented house at St Margaret’s Bay. But he returned to Goldenhurst in December 1951, and set about repairing the damage done during four years of Army occupation. Coward’s secretary and biographer Cole Lesley remembered it thus:
Noël swung into action immediately, and so did everybody else. The next four months were beset with the same frustrations we had endured when moving in to White Cliffs; permits were still necessary for repairs and alterations, and the Army’s depredations since the requisitioning in 1940 had reduced the lovely house to a sorry state. Patience Erskine, kind friend of many years, had occupied Noel’s suite of rooms with her two dogs since the Army had finally evacuated, and that was all. Patience had taken care of the very large house, the garden and the grounds—she is a gardener by nature and from deep-rooted love of it—but the thought of getting at least thirty rooms shipshape from their stark and war-scarred condition was daunting.
No matter, I was as excited and eager as Noël at the thought of ‘coming home’. Goldenhurst really was home, which White Cliffs never quite had been, and we would end our days there we thought. Patience moved into a caravan parked near the pond until the pleasant rooms over the garage were converted into a flat for her, and we all worked with a will. The only people who didn’t bestir themselves were the bestowers of permits, until Noël became incensed by the delays.
[ … ]The permits were granted (though far from liberal) and Patience moved into her flat— known as The Lodge from now on—where one could rely on good talk, an abundant supply of Scotch whisky and a loving welcome. She now ruled her kingdom as head gardener, Old John and his brother Ted her lieutenants, soon joined by a Kentish lad, John Brooks. Young John adored Patience, and indeed helped and served her faithfully until he died too young, twenty years later. For the next weeks we all mucked in, including Noël at weekends, wielding paintbrushes, staggering under the weight of innumerable books, and hanging pictures. 1
Ted died on 17th January 1954. His obituary in the Kentish Express, 29th January 1954, reported that “The funeral took place at the Parish Church [Aldington] of Mr. Ernest (Ted) Lancefield, who lived at Peacock Bungalow since 1908. Before retirinq through ill-health, he worked at Goldenhurst for 36 years and his employers included Mr. Noël Coward for whom he was a gardener. From 1914 to about 1946, he was a Special Constable”.
John survived his brother by 5 years. He was discovered dead in his garden on 11th May 1959, but a post-mortem confirmed that he had died of natural causes. The Kentish Express 22nd May 1959 reported on his funeral:
PLAYWRIGHT REMEMBERED HIS GARDENER
A large wreath of red roses from the famous playwright, Noël Coward was among flowers sent to Friday’s funeral of Mr. John A.G. Lancefield, of Peacock Bungalow, Aldington, who for several years was Mr. Coward’s gardener when the playwright lived at “Goldenhurst”.
For 31 years, and during two wars, Mr. Lancefield was a special constable, resigning in 1945.
As well as noting songs from John and Ted, Francis Collinson records that they gifted to him their collection of broadside ballad sheets. In an article in Kent County Journal, 6 (4), July -Sep 1945, p81 he wrote
The Kentish name for a broadsheet, which is still remembered and used, is a ballet (to rhyme with mallet). These ballets were hawked through the streets of towns and villages all over the country at a penny each, and sung or “cried” by their vendors to any old tune that happened to fit. The most extensive collection of them I have come across was in the possession of the brothers John and Ted Lancefield, of Adlington [sic]; and I have to record with gratitude their kindness in making a gift of them to me, for these old broadsheets are treasure to the song collector. One of these is reproduced below. It deals with a common subject of the broadsheet poets—shipwreck, and it is quite probable that the story was a true one, or at least had some basis in local fact. The Lancefields could not remember the tune to which it was sung, but I did get some other songs from them complete with their tunes—including one with the intriguing title of “The Folkstone Murderer.” The ‘shipwreck ballad’ generally appeals to its hearers in the last verse or in the refrain to help the widows and orphans of the disaster (here the appeal is to the Deity), but it is doubtful if any of the proceeds of its sale ever found their way to this charity!
The ballad which was reproduced in the article is ‘The Wreck of the Northfleet’ (Roud 1174), which was indeed based on an actual event. And the Lancefields had another shipwreck ballad in their repertoire, ‘The Woodside’, which commemorated the loss of a Folkestone vessel and its crew in December 1894.
Songs
- The Folkestone Murderer (Roud 897)
- I Don’t Care If I Do (Roud 847)
- I Said to Sally and Sally Said to Me (Roud 21875)
- The Woodside Woodison (Roud 21873)
- Cole Lesley, The Life of Noël Coward, London:Cape, 1976, p308. ↩︎