Barba Allen- Nora Hicks (NC) c.1939 Abrams MS
[My date. From a 2 page typed MS in the Abrams Collection, written on page 2: Sung by Nora Hicks, copied by Addie Hicks (her daughter), given me by Edith Walker. It's likely she sang, Barbra but it was written "Barba." Nora did not read or write.
This version is certainly very old probably coming down through Nora's grandmother Fanny Hicks, which could have been brought to the mountains before the Revolutionary War by David Hicks, whose father Samuel was born circa 1695 in Tuckahoe Creek, Goochland, Virginia.
Nora's version corresponds closely to Jane Hicks Genrty's version (Sharp 1916 music only), Her text is known only through the singing of her daughter Maud Long (see 1947). Stanza 3 should follow the "Yes, I'm sick stanza." The Hicks/Harmon family apparently knew three versions- the archaic version was sung by Sam Harmon, (son of Council Harmon) who moved to Cades Cove, TN in the 1800s. Jane Hick Gentry's family also moved from the Beech Mountain (Watugua County) area to Madison County, NC.
William Amos “Doc” Abrams (1905-1991), originally from Pinetops in Edgecombe County, North Carolina, was chairman of the English Department at Appalachian State Teacher’s College (ASTC) from 1932 to 1946. The W. Amos Abrams Folksong Collection, presented online as part of the Documenting Appalachia digital initiative, consists of approximately 1,100 document pages that comprise some 400 individual song titles, most of which have multiple variants.
R. Matteson 2015]
BARBA ALLEN- sung by Nora Hicks, NC, no date given.
It was early, early in the spring
Red roses they were blooming
Sweet William lay on his own death bed
And it was all for the love of Barba Allen.
He sent his servant to the town,
The place where she was dwelling,
My master's love sick [and] sent for you,
If your name be Barba Allen.
Your master's sick and very sick,
And death is with him dealing
But none [1] the better will he be,
While my name's Barba Allen.
Slowly she walked, slowly she talked,
Slowly she went unto him,
And when she came to his bed side,
"Young man I think you're dying."
Oh yes, I'm sick and very, very sick
And death is with me dealing,
But none [1] the better will I be,
Till I get Barba Allen.
Don't you remember down in your town,
The place where we were all drinking,
You drunk a health to the ladies 'round
And slighted Barba Allen.
Oh yes, I remember down in my[2] town
The place where we were all drinking,
I drank a health to the ladies 'round
But it was all for Barba Allen.
He turned his pale face to the wall
His back he turned to her
I bid adieu to my kin folks all
Be kind to Barba Allen.
She had not rode three mile from town,
Till she heard the death bells tolling,
Every lick seemed to say,
"Hard- hearted Barba Allen."
She looked to the east, she looked to the west,
Till she seen the corpse a-comin'.
"Go lay him down, go lay him down
That I may look upon him."
The more she looked, the more she wept
Till she bursted out crying.
I'll bid farewell to my mother dear,
For she would not let me have him.
Sweet William was buried in one church yard,
And Barba in the other;
And out of her grave sprung a red rose bush
And out of his a brier.
They grew as high as the old church house,
They could not grow any higher;
And there they tied in a true-lovers' knot
The rose around the brier.
1. Nora sang, "none of the better"
2. Nora sang, "your"