Barbara Allen- Milam (NC) 1939 Brown H
[From the Brown Collection; Volume 2, 1952; with music in Part 4 added to Part 2. There are also several additional texts in Part 4. The Brown editors' notes follow. Additional text from Abrams MS.
R. Matteson 2015]
27. Bonny Barbara Allan (Child 84)
Of all the ballads in the Child collection this is easily the most widely known and sung, both in the old country and in America. Scarcely a single regional gathering of ballads but has it, and it has been published in unnumbered popular songbooks. See BSM 60-1. Mrs. Eckstorm in a letter written in 1940 informed me that she and Barry had satisfied themselves, before Barry's death, that as sung by Mrs. Knipp to the delight of Samuel Pepys in 1666 it was not a stage song at all but a libel on Barbara Villiers and her relations with Charles II; but so far as I know the details of their argument have never been published. The numerous texts in the North Carolina collection may conveniently be grouped according to the setting in three divisions: (1) those that begin in the first person of Barbara's lover (or at least of the narrator), (2) those that begin with a springtime setting, and (3) those that begin with an autumnal setting. Of course those in group 1 may also have either the springtime or the autumnal setting. The rose-and-brier ending is likely to be attached to any of the texts. The lover's bequests to Barbara, a feature not infrequent in modern British versions but unusual in America, appears once in the North Carolina texts, in F. The first person of the lover commonly is dropped after the opening stanza, but in F it holds through four stanzas. Not all of the texts are given in full.
H. 'Barbara Allen.' Written down for W. Amos Abrams in 1939 by Miss Edna Milam of Milam. It is the same version as G; but it has lost stanzas 4 and 10, has an intelligible reading in the third line of stanza 6: "But better for thee I'm sure to be" ; has "dear cold cheeks" instead of "tear-cold cheeks" in stanza 16; and has the normal ending, lacking in G:
1. In yonder town where I was born
There was a fair maid dwelling
Made every youth to weal or woe;
Her name was Barbara Allen.'
2 One day, one day in the month of May,
When the green leaves were a-swelling,
Young William came from the western states
And courted Barbara Allen.
3 It was early in the month of June,
When the flowers were a-blooming,
Young William on his death bed lay
For the love of Barbara Allen.
4 Oh, slowly, slowly she fixed up,
And slowly she came nigh him.
The only words she said to him:
'Young man, I think you're dying.'
5 'Oh, yes, I'm sick and very, very sick
And on my death bed lying;
But better from thee, I'm sure to be,
One kiss from you would cure me.'
6 'You may be sick, and very, very sick.
And on your death bed lying;
But better for me, you'll never, never be[1]
Though your heart's blood were a-spilling.
7 'For don't you remember the other night
When you were in town a-drinking
You drank a health to the ladies all around
And slighted Barbara Allen?'
8 'Oh Yes, I remember the other night
When I was in town a-drinking.
I drank a health to the ladies all around.
But my love to Barbara Allen.'
9 He turned his pale face to the wall,
And death was with him dealing.
'Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all;
Be kind to Barbara Allen.'
10 Then she arose and left the room
Where her true love was dying.
And every tongue did seem to say
'Hard-hearted Barbara Allen.'
11 As she was walking o'er the field
She heard the birds a-singing.
And every note did seem to say
'Oh, turn back, Barbara Allen.'
12 As she was walking o'er the fields
She heard the death bell ringing.
And every stroke did seem to say
'Oh, woe to Barbara Allen.'
13 She'd not gone more than half a mile
She saw the corpse a-coming.
'Lay down, I pray, the corpse of clay
That I may look upon him.'
14 The more she looked the more she grieved
Until she started crying;
And then she kissed those tear-cold cheeks
That she'd refused when dying.
15 'Oh, mother, mother, make my bed.
Oh make it soft and narrow;
My true love's died for me today,
I'll die for him tomorrow.
16 'Oh, father, father, dig my grave.
And dig it deep and narrow;
Young William's died for pure, pure love
And 1 shall die for sorrow.'
17 Oh she was buried in the old church yard,
And William was buried by her;
Out of William's grave grew a red, red rose
And out of hers a sweetbrier.
18 They grew and grew to the old church tower,
Till they could not grow any higher;
And then they tied in a true-lovers' knot
And the rose wrapped round the brier.
1. from the MS, not sure what Brown editors mean --the MS is not illegible --see headnote about stanza 6.