English & Other 295. The Brown Girl
CONTENTS:
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Steve Gardham: Here is the earliest copy I have of 295A. As far as I know this has never been published except in my paper. I have this 10st version in 2 separate printings of the 18th century, both titled 'The Cruel Nymph' and practically identical (The other is on a no imprint slip in the Madden Collection). There are some minor differences as you will be able to see between The Cruel Nymph and the slightly later 8 st 'The Bonny Brown Girl' of which there are a few more copies, all in the BL. Sts 8 and 10 are not in TBBG
BL 11621 e 6. songster 12, item 1. The Songster is titled 'The Tom Tit Part II' with 16 songs in it of which this is the first. This whole bound book of songsters is full of songs sung at the pleasure gardens like Vauxhall and Ranelagh . They were all printed at Aldermary Churchyard which means by either Marshall or the Dicey Brothers or both c1750-1770
The Cruel Nymph
I am as brown as brown can be
And my eyes as black as a sloe;
I am as brisk as a nightingale,
And as wild as any doe.
My love sent me a letter,
Far from yonders town;
He could not fancy me,
Because I was so brown.
I sent his letter back again;
His love I value not,
Whether he could fancy me,
Or whether he could not.
My love sent me another letter
That he lay dangerous sick,
And I must needs go presently,
And give my love physick.
But now you shall hear what a love I had,
And a love for that sick man;
That I was whole summer's day,
One mile a going on.
When I came to my love's bed-side,
Where he lay dangerous sick,
I could not then for laughing stand
Upright upon my feet.
I sat me down by his bed side,
And laid a white wand on his breast.
And then cry'd I since you are well,
I hope your soul's at rest.
No sooner had I spoke these words,
He lifted up his eyes;
But since you see how bad I am,
'Tis you your love denies.
I'll do as much for my true love,
As any pretty maiden may:
I'll dance and sing upon your grave,
For a twelvemonth and a day.
When I have done what I can do,
I'll sit me down and cry,
And every tear that I do shed,
I'll hang them up to dry.
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http://digital.nls.uk/english-ballads/pageturner.cfm?id=74891440
The Sailor and his Truelove.
Printed by Jennings, Water-lane, Elect- street. London.
Printer: Jennings, J., printer in Fleet Street, London
Probable date printed: 1802-1809
As a young sailor and his truelove one morning in May.
Where walking together in the fields blithe and gay ;
Says the sailor to his truelove, my dear life for your sake,
I'll away unto the Indies whatever does betide,
And when I do return, my love, I'll make you my bride.
Then a heavy sigh she gave him, saying, Jemmy
my dear,
While down her sweet rosy cheeks ran many a
salt tear,
What will you go and leave me in sorrow to
remain,
Till you from the Indies return back again.
O then from off his fingers a golden ring he
Sauing, take this as a token for more you shall
I'm bound unto the ocean where the billows loud do roar,
For the sake of lovely Nancy, the girl I adore.
Then farewell my dearest Nancy, no longer can I stay,
For our top-sails are loos'd, and our anchor is weigh'd ;
Then thousand kisses, then down her cheeks the tears fell,
May the heavens protect you—dear William farewell.
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The Kentish Garland, Volume 2 edited by Julia Henrietta Louisa De Vaynes, Joseph Woodfall Ebsworth
CLIII. The Young Sailor from Dover.
THE young sailor and the stern Sally reverse their positions in the following quaint ballad with wondrous rapidity. Seven weeks worked a marvellous change in the lady's sentiments, and her former lover's speeches (particularly his concluding avowal in the 26th line) illustrate the truth that there is "no rage like love to hatred turned.'"
[Garlands of New Songs, vol. I. in British Museum, 11621. a. 2. art. 28.]
The Young sailor from Dover
THERE was a young sailor from Dover he came,
He courted pretty Sally, pretty Sally by name;
But she was so lofty, and her portion so high,
That on this young sailor she cast not an eye. 4
"O Sally, O Sally, I am fear'd," said he,[1]
"That your false heart will my ruin be;
Except that your hatred will turn into love,
I'm afraid that your false heart will my ruin prove." 8
"My hatred is not to you, nor any other man,
But to say that I love you is more than I can;
So keep your intention, and all your discourse,
For I never will marry you except by force." 12
When seven long weeks were gone and past,
This pretty fair maid fell sick at the last;
Entangled with love, and she knew not why,
So she sent for the sailor whom she did deny. 16
"O am I the doctor, did you send for me?
Or am I the young man you wish for to see?"
"0 yes, you are the doctor, you can kill or you can cure,
For the pain I lie under I'm not able to endure." 20
"0 Sally" said he, "don't you remember [that morn],
When you slighted my love, and treated me with scorn?
So now I will reward you for what you have done!"
"Forget and forgive, my love, for what is past and gone!" [2]
"0 no, my dearest Sally, as long as I have breath,
I will dance upon the grave you lie underneath!"
The rings on her fingers, [she took off] one, two, three,
Saying, "Take them, dearest Billy, in remembrance of me!
"In remembrance of me, my love, when I am dead and gone,
You'll think on my tender heart how it was undone:
Adieu to this young sailor, for he'll not pity me,
And a thousand times over my folly I do see!"[3]
1 Probably this line may have originally ran thus. In the Garland it is "O Sally! O Sally!" said he, "I am fear'd."
2 Careless as ballad-writers were about rhyme, the above verse can scarcely have been written as it appears in the Garland, '' For what is gone and past, my love, forget and forgive." We imagine the text must have stood :—
"O Sally! don't you remember," said he,
When you slighted my love, and with scorn treated me?
So now I will reward you for what you have done!"
"My love, forget and forgive for what is past and gone!"
But Mr. Ebsworth holds that the rectification of text is simpler by transposing the three portions of the twenty-fourth line; and he restores two dropt words within brackets in line twenty-first, and three in the twenty-eighth.
3 The other songs in the above Garland are, "The braes of Killicranky O!" "My bonny Lowland Laddie," "Patrich O'Neal" ( = "Ye Sons of Hibernia," etc., 1798, or earlier), and "Yo, Yea I" (= " Down top-gallant sails, stand by your braces "). Therefore the date of " The Young Sailor from Dover" is about 1797. No printer's name is on the Garland; but we have some more guidance to the date. The other songs in the next Garland of New Songs are Dibdin's "Megoi Wapping" (1796), "Admiral Benbow" (before 1783), and an answer to "The Girl I left behind me," = "You maidens all pray lend an ear" (after 1759). Therefore the date of "Ned Flint" is probably before 1797. I possess a copy (see various readings) dated August, 1800.—J.W.E.
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AM I THE DOCTOR? From Songs of the People, Henry
Note: this sort-of reverse twist on Barbara Allen is fairly widely distributed, as Proud Irish Lady, Sailor from Dover, Proud Nancy and Proud Sally.
A sailor from Dover, from Dover he came
He courted lovely Sally and Sally was her name;
But still she walked so lofty and her fortune was so high,
That she on a sailor would scarce cast an eye.
A few months being over and a few months being past,
This fair she began to grow sick at the last
She grew sick at the last and she couldn't tell for why
And she sent for the sailor that she oftimes did deny.
"Am I the doctor, that you sent for me?
Or am I the young man that you sent for me?"
"Oh yes, you're the doctor, you can either kill or cure,
The pain that I feel, dear, is hard to endure."
"Where does the pain lie, does it lie in your head?
Or where does the pain lie, does it lie in your side?"
"Oh indeed, young man, you're not far off the guess
The pain that I feel lies under my left breast."
She took the gold rings off her fingers, by one, two or three,
Saying, "Take you these, dear Willie, in remembrance of me,
In remembrance of me, my dear, when I am dead and gone
And perhaps you'll be sorry then for what you have done."
"Oh Sally, dearest Sally, oh Sally dear," said he
"Don't you remember when you first slighted me?
You mocked me with cruelty and slighted me with scorn
And now I'll reward you for what you have done."
"Oh Willie, dearest Willie, forget and forgive
And grant me a little while longer to live."
"O no, dearest Sally, as long as I breathe
I'll dance on your tomb while you lie underneath."
Now Sally's dead and got buried at last,
And Willie's lamenting for all that is past
Saying, "Sally, lovely Sally, if you were yet alive
It's you I would wed and all others deprive."
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SALLY AND BILLY- From Real Sailor-Songs by John Ashton (London: The Leadenhall Press, 1891), page 71:
'Tis of a young sailor, from Dover he came.
He courted pretty Sally, pretty Sally was her name,
But she was so lofty, and her portion was so high,
That she on a Sailor would scarce cast an eye.
O, Sally, O, Sally, O, Sally, says he,
I fear that your false heart will my ruin be,
Unless that your hatred should turn into love,
I'm afraid that your false heart will my ruin prove.
My hatred's not to you, nor any other man,
But to say that I love you, is more than I can,
So keep your intentions, and hold your discourse,
For I never will marry you without I am forc'd.
When seven long weeks were over and past,
His pretty maid she fell sick at the last,
Entangled in love, and she knew not for why,
So she sent to the Sailor whom she did deny.
O, am I the doctor that you have sent for me?
Or, am I the young man that you'd wish to see?
O, yes, you're the doctor that can kill or cure.
The pain that I feel, love, is hard to endure.
O, Sally, O, Sally, O, Sally, says he,
Pray don't you remember how you slighted me?
How you have slighted me, my love, and treated me with scorn?
But now I will reward you for what you have done.
But what is past and gone, my love, forget, forgive,
And grant me a little while longer to live.
O, no, my dearest Sally, for as long as I breathe,
I'll dance on your grave, my love, that you lay underneath.
She took rings from her fingers by one, two, and three,
Saying, Here, my dearest Billy, in remembrance of me,
In remembrance of me, my love; when I am dead and gone,
Perhaps you may be sorry for what you have done.
So, adieu to my daddy, my mammy, and my friends,
And adieu to this young sailor, for he will make me no amends.
Likewise to this young sailor, for he will not pity me,
Ten thousand times over my folly I do see.
This is the same text as the broadside, "Sally and her True Love Billy," found in Ballads Catalogue: Harding B 11(3401); Printer: Such, H. (London); Date: between 1863 and 1885; Imprint: London: H.P. Such, Machine Printer and Publisher, 177, Union- street, Boro'., S.E. Printer's Series: (535). Illus. Ballads on sheet: 2
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THE SAILOR FROM DOVER- From Penguin Book of English Folk Songs, Williams and Lloyd; Collected from Mrs. Lucy Durston, Somerset 1909
There was a sailor from Dover, from Dover he came
He courted a fair young damsel, and Sally was her name;
And she being so lofty and her portion being so high,
All on a poor sailor love she scarce would cast an eye.
"O Sally, dearest Sally, O Sally," then said he,
"I fear that your false heart my ruin it will be;
Without your present hatred is turned into love,
You'll make me broken-hearted and my ruin it will prove."
"I cannot love a sailor, nor any such a man,
So keep your heart in comfort and forget me if you can.
I pray you keep your distance and mind your own discourse
For I never intend to marry you unless that I am forced.'
But when a year was over and twelve months they was past
This lovely young damsel she grew sick in love at last.
Entangled she was all in her love, she did not know for why
So she sent for the young man on whom she had an eye.
"Oh, am I now now the doctor, that you have sent for me?
Pray do you well remember how once you slighted me?
How once you slighted me, my love, and treated me with scorn,
So now I will reward you for all that you have done."
"For what is past and gone," she said, "I pray you to forgive
And grant me just a little longer time for to live."
"Oh no, my dearest Sally, as long as I have breath,
I'll dance all on your grave, love, as you lie under the earth."
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The Cruel Nymph - a 'new' version of The Brown Girl (Roud 180, Child 295), found in the Madden Collection of ballads in the Cambridge University Library. (Madden Collection, VWML microfilms 71/418, slip songs A-G). A version of this article was published in English Dance and Song Volume 63 part 1
The Brown Girl
Roud 180, Child 295A
The folk song collector's dream - to be able to travel back in time to previous centuries and hear the folk songs being sung and even being made. Not as daft as it sounds! Okay, actually listening to a young sailor from Nelson's fleet in the foc's'le bursting forth with an old ballad is not yet on the agenda, but how about discovering ballads hidden away in obscure collections that were obviously a vital part of the folk process two or more centuries ago, or turning up a hitherto undiscovered Child ballad c1820 along with its tune?
These are just some of the delights to be enjoyed in searching through the street literature collections which are rapidly becoming more accessible to scholars due to modern technology and the foresight of a few archivists who are putting their archives onto the internet and microfilm. Yes, it means wading through the endless sheets of Dibdin songs and parlour pieces, but the end results are well worth the effort, and this I intend to demonstrate in this series of articles presenting scarce and interesting broadside ballads to a wider audience.
Let's start with a Child ballad with only one version thought by many to exist. The Brown Girl (Child 295A) was printed by John White of Newcastle c1780. Child gives two versions, both sent to him by Baring Gould, the A version as above, the B version Baring Gould claimed to have collected from a local singer. In reality this B version is a splicing of the A version and a well-known broadside ballad Sally and her True love, Billy, a splendid hoax which has lasted for well over a century. For a full history of the hoax and its effect on later collections see Folk Song Tradition, Revival and Re-Creation, edited by Ian Russell and David Atkinson, University of Aberdeen 2004, chapter 28.
The version of the ballad given here The Cruel Nymph has two more stanzas than The Brown Girl (8 & 10) and it was found buried in the enormous Madden Collection of ballads in Cambridge University Library (Madden Collection, VWML microfilms 71/418, slip songs A-G).
Parts of this ballad did survive into the twentieth century in Scotland. Stanzas 2, 3, 4 and 6 have lines in common with a ballad, itself a collection of commonplaces, called The Rue and the Thyme. The closest version to The Brown Girl is version A of The Greig-Duncan Folk Song Collection Mercat Press 1995 Volume 6, p.156, No.1139.
The Cruel Nymph, A New Song
I am as brown as brown can be,
And my eyes black as a sloe;
I am as brisk as a nightingale,
And as wild as any doe.
My love sent me a letter,
Far from yonders town;
He could not fancy me,
Because I was so brown.
I sent his letter back again,
His love I value not;
Whether he could fancy me,
Or whether he could not.
My love sent me another letter,
That he lay dangerous sick,
And I must needs go presently,
To give my love physick.
But now you shall hear what a love I had,
And a love for that sick man;
That I was a whole summer's day,
One mile a going on.
When I came to my love's bed side,
Where he lay dangerous sick,
I could not then for laughing stand
Upright upon my feet.
I set me down on his bed-side,
And laid a white wand on his breast,
And then cry'd I, since you're so well,
I hope your soul's at rest.
No sooner I had spoke these words,
He lifted up his eyes;
But since you see how bad I am,
'Tis you your love denys.
I'll do as much for my true love,
As any pretty maiden may,
I'll sing and dance upon your grave,
For a twelvemonth and a day.
When I have done what I can do,
I'll sit me down and cry,
And every tear that I do shed,
I'll hang them up to dry.
As Child points out in his notes, most of these stanzas have equivalents in other Child ballads, which is probably why he decided to include it in his collection, having already rejected some spurious material sent by Baring Gould.