House Carpenter- Rorick (VA) 1969 REC
[My date, probably this dates back to the 1930s as learned from her father. From Virginia Traditions - Ballads from British Tradition 1978; reissued 1993. Their notes follow and a bio from The Mountain Laurel. Also found on The Art of Old-Time Mountain Music 2003 and Old Originals, Volume 2 - Old Time Instrumental Music Recently Recorded in North Caroline & Virgina 1976.
Rorick was known as an excellent banjo player. A photo of Rorick and Ward performing at Galax on the Virginia Traditions album is dated 1969. The source of Rorick's text is unknown.
R. Matteson 2016]
This song was recorded during a jam session at the annual Galax Fiddlers' Convention and, to say the least, this kind of audience is strikingly different from the old "fireside" situation one normally associates with ballad singing. Although this public performance setting is relatively unusual, it is still found occasionally.
Bio from The Mountain Laurel:
Dorothy Quesenberry Rorick was born and raised in Virginia and learned how to play the banjo from her father who worked on the railroad in the 1930's. He taught her a lot of Appalachian tunes which have since become classics, such as "Come and Get," "Sally Goodin," Cumberland Gap," and "Leather Britches." He also taught her Civil War songs and she recalled learning "John Henry," as a new song directly from her father's sources on the railroad. She took pride in her old homemade banjo which had been in her family for many years explaining, "Down in the hollow I remember all we ever had, all every family had, to decorate their home in the old days was the fiddle and the banjo on the wall. We used to entertain ourselves."
As Dorothy grew up, she became a featured performer in her local region. By 1937 she was the star of her own radio program out of Columbus, Ohio leading an all-girl band called the "Golden State Cowgirls." She recalled visiting Nashville in the old days and becoming acquainted with performers such as Roy Acuff and Red Foley. There are songs in the National Archives that are copyrighted under her name.
After she and her husband moved to the Galion, Ohio area, she found that there wasn't much of a demand for Appalachian music in the 1940's and 50's and retired as a music performer for forty years.
In 1978, Dorothy was invited as one of Virginia's delegates to the 40th Annual National Folk Festival sponsored by the National Council for the Traditional Arts, a three day series of workshops which brought musicians together from all over the United States to share the best of this country's native musical traditions. The festival was held at Wolf Trap Farm Park in Vienna, Virginia. She not only shared her music, but spoke on a panel addressing the topic, "Why We Held to Our Culture."
Not long after the performance at Wolf Trap, Dorothy died of cancer, but at Wolf Trap she had a shining moment of glory and recognition. It must have filled her with pride and satisfaction, not merely in her own performance, but in the nationally renewed interest in her kind of banjo picking music.
"House Carpenter"- Sung by Dorothy Rorick; with banjo accompaniment.
"We met, we met," cried an old true love,
"We met, we met," cried she
"I'm just returning from the salt, salt sea
And it 's all for the sake of thee."
"I once could have married to a king's daughter dear,
And I'm sure she'd 'a' married me,
But I refused her crown of gold,
And it's all for the sake of thee."
"Now if you could have married to a king 's daughter dear,
I am sure you were much to blame,
For I am married to a house carpenter
And I think he's a nice young man.
But if you will leave your house carpenter,
And come and go with me,
I'll take you where the grass grows green
On the banks of the deep blue sea."
Well, she called her three little babes to her knee,
And she gave them kisses three,
Saying, "Stay at home my three little babes
And keep your Papa company."
They hadn't been gone but about two weeks,
And I'm sure it was not three,
Till that gay lady began to weep
And she wept most bitterly.
It's neither for your gold I leave,
And it's neither for your store,
But it is for my three little babes,
That I never shall see anymore.
Now they hadn't been gone but about three weeks
And I'm sure that it was not four,
Till they sprang a leak in that old ship
And it sank to rise no more.