Barbry Allen- Hubbard/Johnson (VA-TN-IL) c.1799
[My date, assuming Rebecca (Hubbard) Johnson (b. 1792 in VA) learned this when a girl. From an personal message from Mudcat. The contributor has decided not to reveal their name. The details and documentation are provided below. The name "Barbry" has been used in the text as it was sung.
Richard Matteson 2015]
Here is the song as I transcribed it from the singing of my mother and great aunts. This was handed down from at least as far back as my great-great-great grandmother Rebecca (Hubbard) Johnson (b. 1792 in VA). From her it was passed to my great-great grandmother Ona Lacey (Johnson) Bishop, to my great grandmother Adeline (Bishop) Puckett, to my grandmother Lula (Puckett) Turner (and her sisters), to my mother, Ruby (Turner) Clark. And then to me. The Johnsons and Pucketts were originally from Tennessee. By around 1855 they were living in Southern Illinois. They all, of course, pronounced it as "Barbry" Allen. This was one of several songs handed down through the same women. Others include "The Butcher Boy," "Gypsy Davy," "The Farmer's Wife and the Devil," and "The Farmer's Wife wrapped in Sheepskin."
Barbry Allen- from Rebecca (Hubbard) Johnson (b. 1792 in VA)
In Scarlet Town where I was born, there was a fair maid dwellin'
Made many a youth cry well a day, her name was Barbry Allen.
"Twas in the merry month of May when green buds they were swellin'
Young William came from the west country and courted Barbry Allen.
He sent a servant unto her, to the place where she was dwellin'
Saying, "My master sick bids me call for you, if your name be Barbry Allen."
Slowly, slowly got she up, and slowly went she nigh him,
But all she said, as she passed his bed, "Young man I think you're dyin'."
He turned his pale face to the wall and he began a-cryin'
"Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all. Be kind to Barbry Allen."
Slowly, slowly she went home; she saw his pale corpse comin'.
"Lay down, lay down that corpse of clay that I may look upon him."
"Oh Mother, Mother, go make my bed. Go make it long and narrow.
Sweet William died for me today. I'll die for him tomorrow."
They buried William in the old church yard, they buried Barbry beside him.
Out of his grave grew a red, red rose, and out of hers, a briar.
They grew and grew up the old church wall, 'til they could grow no higher,
And at the top, twined in a lover's knot, a red rose and a briar.