Johnny Randall- Clayton (Mo.) c.1885; Randolph C
[From: Ozark Folk-Songs, Vol. 1 Ballads, British Ballads and Songs by Vance Randolph; 1946. His notes follow.
R. Matteson 2014]
JOHNNY RANDOLPH
Most Ozark singers know this piece as "Johnny Randolph" or " Jimmy Randolph," but it was originally the old ballad of "Lord Randall" (Child, English and Scottish Popular Ballads, 1882-1898, No. 12) and is still current in England under that title. Cox (Folk-Songs of the South, 1925, p. 23) suggests that the name derives from John Randolph of Roanoke, a Virginia politician who died in 1833. However, it is certain that the name Randolph was somehow connected with this song in the Old World. Sir Walter Scott (Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, 1902 ed., III, p- 51) thinks it "not impossible that the ballad may have originally regarded the death of Thomas Randolph, or Randal, Earl of Murray, nephew to Robert Bruce, and Governor of Scotland. This great warrior died at Musselburgh, 1332. . . Our historians obsinately impute his death to poison."
C. Johnny Randall. Contributed by Mr. R. H. Clayton, Lanagan, Mo., Nov. 14, 1928. Mr. Clayton learned it from his mother, about 1885.
Where have you been a-ridin', Johnny Randall, my son?
Where have you been a-ridin', my own sweet pretty one?
A-ridin', a-courtin', mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm tired of ridin' and I fain would lie down.
What will you have for supper, Johnny Randall, my son?
What will you have for supper, my own sweet pretty one?
A cup of cold poison, mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm tired of ridin' and I fain would lie down.
What will you will to your sister, Johnny Randall, my son?
What will you will to your sister, my own sweet pretty one?
My trunk and fine jewels, mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm tired of ridin' and I fain would lie down.
What will you will to your brother, Johnny Randall, my son?
What will you will to your brother, my own sweet pretty one?
My horse and fine saddle, mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm tired of ridin' and I fain would lie down.
What will you will to your sweetheart, Johnny Randall, my son?
What will you will to your sweetheart, my own sweet pretty one?
A rope for to hang her, and a knife to cut her down,
I'm tired of ridin' and I fain would lie down.