Vicksburg Girl- Mrs. G. C. Philley (AR) 1959 Parler O
[Ozark Folk Song Collection- online; Reel 309 Item 5. Collected by Mary C. Parler. cf. Town of Vicksburg- Nancy Philley, 1959 Parler N (relative).
Listen: http://digitalcollections.uark.edu/cdm/singleitem/collection/OzarkFolkSong/id/1245/rec/21
R. Matteson 2106]
The Vicksburg Girl- sung by Mrs. G. C. Philley Eudora, Ark. Recorded in Fayetteville, Ark. July 25, 1959.
'Twas in the town of Vicksburg,
The town you all know well,
'Twas in the town of Vicksburg,
We ran a flour mill.
'Twas there I met a pretty fair maid
With dark and roving eyes,
But little did this fair maid know
That I loved her in disguise.
I called at her sister's house
One night about eight o'clock;
I asked her if she'd take a walk;
Of course, she said, "All right."
We walked along, we talked along,
Till we came to level ground,
There I picked up a sycamore stick
And knocked the fair maiden down.
She fell to the ground on bended knees,
O Lord, have mercy, she cried,
"O Willie dear, don't murder me here
For I'm unprepared to die."
But little did her pleadings take,
I only struck her more,
Until the ground around her
Was in a bloody flow[1].
I ran my fingers through her coal-black hair
To cover up my sin,
I carried her to the river's edge
And there I plunged her in.
Go down, go down, you Vicksburg girl,
To me you'll never be tied,
Go down, go down, you Vicksburg girl,
And find a better side.
I called at my mother's house
That night about twelve o'clock,
My mother being weary,
She woke up in a fright.
My son, my son, what have you done
To bloody your hands and clothes?
The answer that I gave her
Was, bleeding at the nose.
I asked her for a handkerchief
To bind my aching head,
I asked her for a candle
To light myself to bed.
I rolled and I tumbled,
No comfort could I find
For the flames of hell around me rolled
And in my eyes did shine.
Three months, three weeks, three days from this,
The Vicksburg girl was found
Floating down the river's edge
Close by another town.
Her sister swore my life away,
She swore without a doubt
She swore that I was the very young man
That led her sister out.
They took me on suspicion,
They placed me in a jail,
I had no one to help me out,
No one to go my bail.
So here I am in this awful place,
A dreadful death to die
To hang up twenty-eight feet high
Between the earth and sky.
Come all young men and warning take
Before it is too late
Don't ever let the devil get
The upper-hand of you.
1. usually "gore"