Brother's Blood- DeLoach (FL-GA) c1910 Morris A
[From Folksongs of Florida; Morris, 1950. This version was passed from song to mother (see was born in 1883 so I'm giving it a date of c. 1910 when informant was young. Morris' notes follow.
R. Matteson 2014]
The few American survivals of this ballad are lacking in vigor. It is barely known outside the South, where the variants follow much the same pattern- Fratricide is finally confessed to a mother, who, through persistent questioning, learns that the one brother killed the other over a "willow sprout" or a "hickory bush that might have been a tree," The Florida variants retain the narrative method of question and answer for their plot development, and have retained the suspense element; but the effective climax in which the implicated mother receives "the curse of Hell" as a legacy from her son is completely lost. For a significant study of this ballad, which was undertaken with the purpose of establishing a possible archetype, see Taylor, Edward and Sven i Rosengard, A study in the dissemination of a ballad. Bronson in SFQ, IV, 1-13, traces the "down-hill" trek of the "Edward" ballad.
EDWARD
(Child, No. 13)
A. "Brother's Blood." Text communicated by Mr. Barney Deloach, who gave this information: "I received this song from my mother, Mrs. John Deloach. She was born in north Florida in 1883. She has lived in Florida most of her life and in the state of Georgia the remaining time. She learned the song from a lady who lived on a farm next to theirs in Georgia."
"Oh, what's that blood on your coat sleeve?
Come, my son, and tell to me."
"It's the blood of the guinea gay hawk
That built its nest in the tree, tree, tree,
That built its nest in the tree."
"Oh, what's that blood on your coat sleeve?
Come, my son, and tell to me."
"It's the blood of the little gray hound
That chased the deer for me, me, me,
That chased the deer for me."
"Oh, what's that blood on your coat sleeve?
Come, my son, and tell to me."
"It's the blood of the little gray pony,
That plowed a furrow for me, me, me,
That plowed a furrow for me."
"Oh, what's that blood on your coat sleeve?
Come, my son, and tell to me."
"It's the blood of my own dear brother,
That rolled away with me, me, me,
That rolled away with me."
"What did you fall out about?
Oh, come, my son, and tell to me."
"We fell out about a willow sprout,
That might have been a tree, tree, tree,
That might have been a tree."
"Oh, what are you going to do when your father comes home?
Come, my son, and tell to me."
"I'll place my foot in the bottom of the boat
And sail across the sea, sea, sea,
And sail across the sea."
"Oh, what are you going to do with your wife and child?
Oh, come, my son, and tell to me."
"I'll place them in the bottom of the boat,
And sail them across the sea, sea, sea,
And sail them across the sea."
"What are you going to do with your house and land?
Oh, come, my son, and tell it to me."
"Will them to my dear old mother,
Who thought so much of me, me, me,
Who thought so much of me."