II. 7. Old-Time Love Songs
Old Bangham............ 149
The Mermaid............ 151
Tee Roo............. 152
Sweet William......... 154
Black Jack Davy........... 156
The Irish Lady............ 160
The Lady of Carlisle.......... 162
The Lame Soldier........... 164
Willy Reilly............ 166
John Riley............. 168
LilyMunro............. 170
Pretty Polly............ 172
The Lexington Murder.......... 174
The Rich Old Lady........... 176
II. 7. OLD-TIME LOVE SONGS
Ask a Southern ballad singer for "Barbara Allen" or "Lord Lovell" or another of the old ballads, and he will be likely to say, "Why, that's nothing but an old love song? This means: (1) The plot is, usually, a love story and was felt by the singers to have a close relationship with their lives and loves. (2) Strictly religious singers would not sing it or tolerate its being sung in their homes. (3) It was sung at "courtin' " parties, or in circumstances in which the song had a meaningful connection with the emotions of the singer. The people of America who preserved these songs and the rural people who still sing them have never felt that these ancient ballads, called by scholars English and Scottish popular ballads, were particularly ancient; nor have they valued them as such. Instead, as we have tried to point out in our notes, they have kept these songs because they felt the near and moving reality of them.
OLD BANGHAM
No record. Adelaide Hemingway, Washing-ton, D.C., 1939. See "Sir Lionel," Child No. 18; Sh, 1:54*, Da, p. 125 > Be, p. 29.
"My grandmother learned to sing 'Old Bangham' from her mother, who had traveled out to the Sioux Indian country from her girlhood home in western Massachusetts. She was a Longley} and the song must have been brought from England when the family came to Massachusetts in the early 1600s. In 1866 my grandmother sailed round the Cafe of Good Hope in one of the last clipper ships to come to the Far East. She brought the song to the dry plains of North China, to her new home at Kalgan, the gateway to Mongolia, where she sang it to her six children, lulling them to sleep many a time as they swung along in a mule litter or jolted over the rough roads in a Peking cart.
"As a little girl I also was sung to sleep by the minor tones of 'Old Bangham' as our cart went bump, bump over even rougher Shansi roads which brought us gradually nearer to supper and bed in a willow-shaded Chinese inn or at home in our mission compound"
1. Old Bangham did a-hunting ride, Derrum, derrum, derrum, Old Bangham did a-hunting ride, Kimmy qua,
Old Bangham did a-hunting ride, A sword and pistol by his side, Derrum, kimmy quo qua.
2. He rode unto the riverside,
And there a pretty maid he spied.
3. "Fair maid," said he, "will you marry me?"
"Oh, no," said she, "for we can't agree.
4. "There lives a bear in yonder wood,
He'll grind your bones and suck your blood."
5 He rode unto the wild bear's den,
There lay the bones of a hundred men.
6 Old Bangham and the wild bear fought,
By set of sun the bear was naught.
7 He rode unto the riverside
And there a pretty maid he spied.
8 "Fair maid," said he, "will you marry me?"
"Oh, yes," said she, "for now we agree."
________________________________________
THE MERMAID
No. 1438. Eliza Pace, Hyden, Ky., 1937. See Child No. 2895 Sh, 1:292.
Aunt 'Lize Pace, eighty years odd, is the wittiest and gayest lady in Leslie County, Kentucky. She lives with her daughter in an old log cabin on the bank of the Clear Fork and, when Lize is not inching along over her cane to the post office or entertaining some neighbor's child at her front door, she has her face in a book, her old eyes following a story of adventure in the Klondike or on the sea.
"Years ago when that funny old Englishman [The English collector Cecil J. Sharp] come over the mountains and wrote down these old love songs I know, I could sing like a mockingbird, and wasn't no step I couldn't put my foot to in a dance. I didn't keer for nothing and I was happy as a lark all day. But now Pm a-gittiny deef and erbout lame, and I canyt stir around for my liviny like I used to. The government sends me my old-age money, but it's shore hard to support a family on three dollars a month, now, ain't it? That's what makes it so I can't remember that last verse to this here pretty song. Anyhow, I do pretty well for sich an old woman—don't I, now?"
1. As I went out one evening,
Far out of sight of the land,
There I saw a mermaid a-sitting on a rock
With a comb and a glass in her hand.
2 A-combing down her long yellow hair,
Her skin was like a lily so fair,
Her cheeks were like two roses and her eyes were like the stars
And her voice was like the nightingale's air.
3 This little mermaid swum into the deep,
The winds begin fur to blow,
The hail and the rain was so dark in the air,
We'll never see the land any more.
4 At last come down the captain of our ship,
With a plumb and a line in his hand,
He plumbed the sea to see how fur it was
To a rock or else to the sand.
5 He plumbed her behind and he plumbed her before
And the ship kept turning around,
The captain cried out, "Our ship will be wrecked
When the needle swings straight around.
6 "Then throw out your loading as fast as you can,
The truth to you I will tell,
This night we all must start
To heaven or else to hell."
____________________________
TEE ROO
No. 61. Foy and Ado Gant, Austin, Texas, 1934. See "The Farmer's Curst Wife," Child No. 2785 Sh, 1:2755 Da, p. 5055 Be, p. 94.
"A lot of times it was sung by the farmers to sheer their wives up a little bit when they'd been quarrelin' and raisin' sand around, to make 'em afraid the same thing might happen to them. You know them old religious women, they're awful afraid of the devil. Yes, they's plenty of them believe that the devil come and called on the old man one mornin' when he was startin' out to plow and sacked her up and took her away and the farmer wouldn't accept her at all when he brought her back." —Aunt Molly Jackson.
1. Got up one morning, went out to plow,
Tee roo, tee roo, went out to plow.
With sixteen oxens and a darned old cow,
Tee roo, tee roo, and a darned old cow.
2 Up stepped the old devil sayin', "How do you do?
There's one in your-family that I must have."
3. "Oh, please don't take my oldest son,
There's work on the place that's got to be done."
4. "It's all I want's that wife of yours."
"Well, you can have her with all of my heart,
And promise me you'll never depart."
5. He picked her up upon his back,
He looked like an eagle skeered off of the rack.
6. He carried her on about half of the road,
He says, "Old woman, you're a devil of a load."
7. He carried her on to the old deviPs door,
There stood a little devil with a ball and a chain,
And up with her foot and she kicked out his brains.
8 Nine little devils went climbing the wall,
Saying, "Take her back, daddy, she'll murder us all."
9 Got up the next morning, peeped through the crack,
I spied the old devil come wagging her back.
10 And jnow you know what a woman can do,
She can whup out the devil and her husband too.
SWEET WILLIAM
B. No. 1357. Fields Ward, Galax, Va., 1937. See "Earl Brand," Child No. 7, Sh, 1:14 ff.
1. It was in the merry, merry month of May,
When the meadows looked fresh and gay,
He hung his bugles around about his neck,
And he went riding away.
2. He rode till he came to Fair Ellen's house;
He knocked and he tingled at the ring.
"Asleep or awake, Fair Ellen," I said,
"Pray arise and let me in."
3. Fair Ellen arose and she slipped on her clothes
To let Sweet William in;
No one was so ready as Fair Ellen herself
To arise and let him in.
4. Then he mounted her upon the milk-white horse,
Himself on the iron-gray;
He hung his bugles around about his neck,
And they went riding away.
5. They rode till they came in three miles of the place,
They stopped and they looked all around;
They looked and they saw some seven iron men
Come hasting over the ground.
6. "Get down, get down, Fair Ellen," I said,
"And take my steed in hand,
Till I go back to yonder spring
And stop those seven iron men."
7 She stood till she saw her six brothers fall,
Her father, he fell so near.
"Sweet William," I said, "come and stop your case,
For you seem almost too severe."
8 She took a handkerchief from her side,
'Twas made of linen so fine;
She took and she wiped his bleeding, bleeding wound,
For the blood ran as red as any wine.
9 Then he mounted her upon the milk-white steed,
Himself on the iron-gray;
He hung his bugles around about his neck,
And they went riding away.
10. They rode till they came to his mother's house,
He knocked and he tingled at the ring.
"Asleep or awake, dear mother," I said,
"Pray arise and let me in."
11. His mother arose and she slipped on her clothes
To let Sweet William in;
No one was so ready as his mother herself
To arise and let him in.
12 "Dear mother," I said, "come and bind up my head,
You never shall bind it any more."
Sweet William, he died of the wound that he bore,
And Fair Ellen, she died also.
_____________________________
BLACK JACK DAVY
No. 72. Gant family, Austin, Texas, 1934. See "The Gypsy Laddie," Child No. 2005 Sh, 1:233; Hu, p. 118; Be, p. 73.
One morning I called on the Gant family at ten o'clock. Mrs. Gant met me at the door dressed in her early morning wrapper.
"The children are all asleep," she whispered apologetically, "and haven't gone to school today. Last night we all got to singing and dancing. We didn't go to bed until two o'clock this morning. The children stayed up, too, so I'm letting the whole bunch sleep until dinnertime."
The Gants were east Texas people from the sandy, square-dancing, razorback country that stretches into Arkansas, through northern Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama to the mountains. The Gants had followed cotton into Oklahoma, then down into the Panhandle and, in drought and years of bad prices, had moved on. In Oklahoma they learned new songs, new Gants were born, and some of the young ones began to pick the guitar. In the Panhandle they learned cowboy songs, the oldest daughter was married and had her first baby, and Adoniram began to pick the guitar. Dispossessed again, they came to Austin, the capital, looking for something to do. When there were no more jobs, they got a little food from the Relief and lived in a shack on the bank of the Colorado River.
The Gants were from the square-dancing, ballad-singing country, and on Saturdays there was always a dance at their house. On other week nights some of the boys would drop in to pick Ether's guitar, and there would be singing on the porch.
"Working on the highway y earning three dollars a day" And when no one was sick and the girls didn't have dates, there might be a singing at home: Mrs. Gant, who taught them their songs and their love of singing, and who knew the saddest songs, the oldest daughter, Glyda, who pretended to turn her nose up at the ballads but could sing "The Old Lady from Tennessee" better than anybody else in the family; Foy, who could pick the guitar as well as a man and used to remind them of their tunes; Ella, who was twelve and knew all the old tunes, especially the "funny ones"; the three boys, who mostly sang the blues, the cowboy songs, and the jailhouse ballads; Mr. Gant, who had one song, "Bangum and the Boar," over which his rights were almost personal; and then on the beds, leaning against someone's knee or breast, the tow-headed Gant kids, listening, falling asleep, and waking up to listen again.
"The singing kept us so happy, we just couldn't go to sleep," smiled Mrs. Gant.
Gant songs in this book: "Tee Roo," "Adieu to the Stone Walls," "Black Jack Davy," "When First to This Country a Stranger I Came."
1 Black Jack Davy come a-ridin' through the woods. }
Singing songs so gayly,
Sang so loud he made the wild woods ring,
Charmed the hearts of a lady,
Charmed the hearts of a wife.
2 The old man came in that night,
Inquiring for his lady,
Said, "Where is my wife?"
The servant spoke before he thought,
"She's gone with the Black Jack Davy,
She's gone with the Black Jack boy."
3 "Go saddle me up my milk-white horse,
Saddle him slow and easy,
I'll ride all night till the broad daylight
And overtake my lady,
And overtake my wife."
4 He rode all day and he rode all night,
Till he came to the edge of the water;
There he looked on the other side,
There he spied his darling,
There he spied his wife.
5 "Will you forsake your house and home?
Will you forsake your baby?
Will you forsake the one you love
To roam with the Black Jack Davy?
To roam with the Black Jack boy?"
6 "Yes, I'll forsake my house and home;
Yes, I'll forsake my baby.
And I'll forsake the one I love
To roam with the Black Jack Davy,
To roam with the Black Jack boy."
7 "Will you pull off your snow-white gloves
Made of Spanish leather,
Give to me your lily-white hand,
Bid farewell forever,
Bid farewell goodbye?"
8 "Yes, I'll give up my snow-white gloves,
Made of Spanish leather,
Give you my lily-white hand,
Bid farewell forever,
Bid farewell goodbye."
9 "Last night I lay in my own feather bed,
By the side of my little baby;
Tonight I'll lay in the mud and rain,
By the side of Black Jack Davy,
By the side of the Black Jack boy."
THE IRISH LADY
Tune and first stanza. No. 1608. Capt. P. R. Nye, Akron, Ohio; other stanzas, No. 1302B. Mrs. Minnie Floyd, Murrells Inlet, S.C., 1937. See "Pretty Sally," Cox, p. 366; 'The Brown Girl," Child No. 295; Sh, 11366, Be, p. 12.
"Maybe they did die of broken hearts in the old days when they used to think that if they didn't get the man they wanted they were ruined forever. Nowadays they have learned that if they don't get one man, they'll get another one?'
1 A rich Irish lady from Ireland came,
A beautiful damsel called Saro by name,
Her riches was more than a king could possess,
Her beauty was more than her wealth at its best.
2 A lofty young gentleman a-courtin' her came,
A-courtin' this damsel called Saro by name,
"O Saro, 0 Saro, O Saro," said he,
"I fear that my ruin forever you'll be."
3 "I fear that my ruin forever you'll prove
Unless you turn all your hatred to love."
"No hatred to you nor to no other man.
But this, for to love you is more than I can."
4 "So end all your sorrow and drop your discourse,
I never will have you unless I am forced."
Six months had appeared and five years had passed,
I heard of this damsel's misfortune at last.
5 She lay wounded by love and she knew not for why
And sent for this young man who she once did deny.
By her bedside those words they was said,
"There's a pain in your side, love, there's a pain in your head."
6 "Oh, no, kind sir, the right you've not guessed,
The pain that I feel here sits all through my breast."
"Am I your doctor and am I your cure?
Am I your pertector [1] you sent for me here?"
7 "You are my doctor and you are my cure,
Without your pertection I'll die, I am sure."
"O Saro, O Saro, O Saro," said he,
"Don't you remember when I first courted thee?
8 "I asked you in kindness, you answered in scorn,
And now I'll reward you for the time past and gone."
"Time past and gone I hope you'll forgive
And grant me some longer in comfort to live."
9 "I'll never forgive you as long as I live;
I'll dance on your grave, love, when you're laid in the ground."
Off of her fingers gold rings she pulled three,
Said, "Take them and wear them while you're dancing on me."
10 "Adieu to my friends, adieu, all around,
Adieu to my true love, God make him a crown;
I'll freely forgive him although he won't me,
My follies ten thousand times over I see."
THE LADY OF CARLISLE
No. 1587. Ace. on guitar and sung by Basil May, Salyersville, Ky., 1937- See Sh> 1:396) Ma> P- *2- Also Robert Brownings "The Glove."
"My mother sang lots of love songs but never when my fa was around. She always waited until she went to see her feofley and then she would get together with her sisters who was great singers"
i Down in Carlisle there lived a lady,
Being most beautiful and gay;
She was determined to live a lady,
No man on earth could her betray,
2 Unless it was a man of honor,
A man of honor and high degree;
Then approached two loving soldiers,
This fair lady for to see,
3 One being a brave lieutenant,
A brave lieutenant and a man of war;
The other being a brave sea captain,
A captain on a ship that was Kong Kong Kar.
4 Up spoke this fair young lady,
Saying, "I can't be but one man's bride;
If you come back tomorrow morning
And on this case we will decide."
5 She ordered her a span of horses,
A span of horses at her command;
Down the road the three did travel
Till they come to the lions' den.
6 There she stopped and there she halted
These two soldiers stood gazing around,
And for the space of half an hour
This young lady lies speechless on the ground.
7 And when she did recover,
Threw her fan down in the lions' den,
Saying, "Which of you to gain a lady
Will return my fan again?"
8 Then up stepped this brave lieutenant,
Raised his voice both loud and clear,
"I know I am a dear lover of women,
But I will not give my life for love."
9 Then up stepped this brave sea captain.
Raised his voice both loud and high.,
"I know I am a dear lover of women 5
I will return her fan or die."
10 Down in the lions' den he boldly entered,
The lions being both wild and fierce ,
He marched around and in among them,
Safely returned her fan again.
11 And when she saw her true love coming,
Seeing no harm had been done to him,
She threw herself against his bosom.
Saying, "Here is the prize that you have won."
THE LAME SOLDIER
d to eK Nos. 1727, 1728. Mrs. Oscar Parks, Deuchars, Ind., 1938.
i There was a lame soldier in time of the war.
He had a lame leg and his face were a scar,
He marched up the street in Dublin so fair,
And in his arms an infant bear.
2 "Pretty Peggy, pretty Peggy, would you agree
To leave your old husband and baby to be,
To leave your old husband and baby to be,
And go with a soldier and sail on the sea?"
3 Pretty Peggy, pretty Peggy, she did agree To leave her old husband and baby to be, To leave her old husband and baby to be, And go with the soldier and sail on the sea.
4 John bridled his horses and away he did ride, Expecting to see Peg down by the seaside, But when he got there it was late in the day— And Peg and her soldier had sailed far away.
5 They had not been sailing more than two weeks or three, Till Peg and her soldier they two disagreed;
He kicked her and he cuflFed her and he called her whore, He bid her adieu to her own country.
6 Now, when Peg got back it was late in the night, Because she was ashamed to be seen in daylight, She crept to the window to listen awhile,
To hear her old husband sing to her dear child.
7 "Rock-a-bye, baby, and don't you cry,
Your mamma's gone and left you and I cannot tell why;
"But if she comes back here, she can't stay with me,
She may go with her soldier and sail on the sea."
8 "Open my door and let me in,
And I will never be called a false wench again."
"Go way from my door and leave me alone,
Go sail with your soldier, he'll find you a home."
WILLY REILLY
d to c. No. 1008. Capt. P. R. Nye, Akron, Ohio, 1937. See Gr, p. 1845 Cox, p. 3365 Cr, p. 152; Be, p. 289.
"This was a favorite for a gathering on our boat in my childhood youth. My farents sang it times without number on request^ along with many others." —Captain Pearl R. Nye, of the Ohio Canal.
The fullest American version of this Irish ballad appears, fifty-seven stanzas long, in Helen Creighton's Songs and Ballads from Nova Scotia. It was often printed in songsters in the early part of the nineteenth century.
1 "Oh, rise up, Willy Reilly, and come along with me, I mean to go with you and leave this coun-ter-ee, To leave my father's dwelling place, his houses and free land,* And away goes Willy Reilly and his dear Colleen Bawn.
2 They go by hill and mountain and by yon lonesome plain, Through shady groves and valleys, all dangers to refrain 3 But her father followed after with a well armed band, And taken was poor Reilly and his dear Colleen. Bawn!
3 It's home then she was taken and in her closet bound, Poor Reilly all in Sligo jail lay on the stony ground, Till at the bar of justice before the judge he'd stand, For nothing but the stealing of his lovely Colleen Bawn.
4 "Now in the cold, cold iron, my hands and feet are bound, I'm handcuffed like a murderer and tied unto the ground5 But all the toil and slavery I'm willing to withstand, Still hoping to be succored by my dear Colleen Bawn."
5 The jailer's son to Reilly goes and thus to him did say: "Oh, get up, Willy Reilly, you must appear today,
For great Squire Foillard's anger you never can withstand, I'm afraid you'll suffer sorely for your dear Colleen Bawn."
6 Now Willy's dressed from top to toe, all in a suit of green, His hair hangs o'er his shoulders most glorious to be seen; He's tall, so straight and comely, as any could be found, He's fit for Foillard's daughter, was she heiress to a crown.
7 "This is the news, young Reilly, last night that I did hear, The lady's oath will hang you, or else will set you free," "If that be so," says Reilly, "her pleasure I will stand, Still hoping to be succored by my dear Colleen Bawn."
8 The judge he said: "This lady being in her tender youth, If Reilly has deluded her, she will declare the truth." Then like a moving beauty bright before him she did stand, "You're welcome then, my heart's delight, and my dear Colleen Bawn."
9 "Oh, gentlemen," Squire Foillard said, "with pity look on me, This villain came among us to disgrace our family;
And by his base contrivances this villainy was planned, If I don't get satisfaction, I'll quit this Irish land."
10 The lady with a tear began, and thus replied she:
"The fault was none of Reilly's, the blame lies all with me, I forced him for to leave his place and come along with me, I loved him out of measure, which wrought our destiny."
11 Out spoke the noble Fox, at the table he stood by, "Oh, gentlemen, consider on this extremity;
To hang a man for love is a murder, you may see,
So spare the life of Reilly, let him leave this coun-ter-ee."
12 "Good my lord, he stole from her, her diamonds and .her rings. Gold watch and silver buckles and many precious things, Which cost me in bright guineas more than five hundred pounds, I'll have the life of Reilly should I lose ten thousand pounds."
13 "Good my lord, I gave them him as tokens of true love, And we are a-parting I will them all remove,
If you have got them, Reilly, pray, send them home to me." "I will, my loving lady, with many thanks to thee."
14 "There is a ring among them I allow yourself to wear, With thirty locket diamonds well set in silver fair, And as a true-love token wear it on your right hand,
That you'll think of my broken heart when you're in a foreign land."
15 Then out spoke noble Fox: "You may let the prisoner go, The lady's oath has cleared him, as the jury all may know5 She has released her own true love, she has renewed her name,
May her honor bright gain high estate and her offspring rise to fame!"
JOHN RILEY
b^. No. 1504. Mrs. Lncy Garrison, Providence, Laurel County, Ky., 1937. See "George Reilly," Sh, 2:22$ Cox, p. 323.
i As I walked out pne summer's evening To take the cool and pleasant air, 'Twas there I spied a fine young lady And she looked to me like a lily fair.
2 I stepped up to her and kindly asked her If she would be a poor sailor's wife, "Oh, no, kind sir, I don't want to marry, I'd rather live a single life."
3 "What makes you so far from all human nature? What makes you so far from all womankind?
You are young, you are youthful, fair, and handsome 3 You can marry me if you're so inclined."
4 "The truth, kind sir, I'll plainly tell you: I could have been married three years ago To one John Riley who left this country Has been the cause of my grief and woe."
5 "Don't think upon Riley and do forget him And go with me to a distant shore,
And we'll sail over to Pennsylvany, Adieu to Riley forever more."
6 "I'll not go with you to Pennsylvany, Neither with you to a distant shore,
For my heart is with Riley and I can't forget him, Although I may never see him any more."
7 Now when he saw that she loved him truly, He gave her kisses two or three,
Saying, "I am Riley, your long lost lover, Who has been the cause of your misery."
8 "If you be he and your name is Riley, I will go with you to a distant shore, And we'll sail over to Pennsylvany. Adieu, young friends, forever more."
9 They locked their hands and their hearts together And to the church house they did go,
And they got married to one another, They're living together, doing well.
LILY MUNRO
#i>. No. 134.0. Uncle Alex Dunford, Galax, Va., 1937. See Sh, 1:3855 Be, p. 1713 "Jackaro," "Jackie Fraisure," "Jack Munro," etc., Cox, p. 330. Tune, see "The Rich Old Lady," p. 176.
I There was a wealthy merchant, In London's town did dwell; He had an only daughter, The truth to you I'll tell, Oh, lay the lily ho! Oh, lay the lily ho!
2 Her sweetheart went a-sailin* With trouble on his mind, A-leavin? from his country And his darling love behind, Oh, lay the lily ho!
Oh, lay the lily ho!
3 His sweetheart dressed herself all up In man's array,
And to the war department She then did march away, Oh, lay the lily ho! Oh, lay the lily ho!
4 "Before you come on board, sir, Your name we'd like to know!"
A smile played over her countenance, "They call me Lily Munro," Oh, lay the lily ho! Oh, lay the lily ho!
5 "Your waist is slim and slender, Your fingers they are small, Your cheeks too red and rosy To face a cannon ball,"
Oh, lay the lily hoi Oh, lay the lily ho!
6 "My waist I know is slender, My fingers they are small,
But it would not make me tremble To see ten thousand fall." Oh, lay the lily ho! Oh, lay the lily ho!
7 The drum began to beat, The fife began to playj Straightway to the field of battle They all did march away,
Oh, lay the lily ho! Oh, lay the lily ho!
And when the war was ended. This girl she searched the ground Among the dead and wounded Until her love she found, Oh, lay the lily ho! Oh, lay the lily ho!
This couple they got married, So well they did agree > This couple they got married And why not you and me? Oh, lay the lily ho! Oh, lay the lily ho!
"Back out West, a girl used to ask a boy into the parlor and sit down at the organ—the mournfullest instrument there ever was, I guess—and play 'em The Dyin' Cowboy, on and on. One of these here organs you had to pump. Some big old fat girls would pump till they'd get out of breath. While they'd puff, the boy would sweat.
"I don't know why they figured such a mournful song was good for courting. Anyhow it worked. Softened 'em up, I reckon."
PRETTY POLLY
d. No. 1346. Ace. on guitar and sung by Mr. and Mrs. E. C. Ball, Rugby, Va. Other stanzas from Aunt Molly Jackson, New York City. See Cox, p. 3085 Ca, p. 74. See also Nos. 823 and 1348.
"He wanted her to marry him and she refused him; but he kept on naggin' at her till finally she promised. Then he thought she was just puttin' it off from time to time so he decided to kill her. There's a lot of people like that—jealous-hearted, I call 'em." —Aunt Molly Jackson.
1. I courted pretty Polly the livelong night,
I courted pretty Polly the livelong night,
Then left her next morning before it was light.[ Adapted and changed from Wyman's text, 1916]
2 "Pretty Polly, pretty Polly, come go along with me,
Pretty Polly, pretty Polly, come go along with me,
Before we get married, some pleasure to see."
3 She got up behind him and away they did go,
Over the hills to the valleys below.
4 They went a little farther and what did they spy?
A new-dug grave and a spade lying by.
5 "Willie, O Willie, I'm afraid of your way,
Pm afraid you will lead my poor body astray."
6 "Pretty Polly, pretty Polly, you're thinking just right,
I dug on your grave the best part of last night."
7 He threw her onto the ground, and she broke into tears,
She threw her arms around him and trembled with fear.
8 "O Willie, please Willie, please spare my sweet life,
How an you kill a girl that was to be your wife?"
9 "There's no time to talk now, there's no time to stand,"
He drew out his knife all in his right hand.
10 He stabbed her to the heart, her heart's blood it did flow,
And into the grave pretty Polly did go.
11 He threw a little dirt over her and started for home,
Leaving no one behind but the wild birds to mourn.
12 A debt to the devil poor Willie must pay,
For killing pretty Polly and running.away.
THE LEXINGTON MURDER
a. No. 1369. Ace. on guitar and sung by Fields Ward, Galax, Va., 1937. See: Sh, 1:4025 Cox, p. 905 39:1255 Be, p. 133.
"I guess she was in a family way and he didn't want to marry her"
i My tender parents who brought me here Provided for me well.
And in the city of Lexington They put me in the mill.
2 'Twas there I spied a fair young miss, She had dark rolling eyes,
I asked her if she would marry me, And she believed my lies.
3 Three weeks ago last Saturday night, Of course it was the day,
The devil put it in my heart To take her sweet life away.
4 I went down to her sister's house At eight o'clock last night 5
And she, the poor girl, seemed to think At her I had a slight.
5 I asked her if she would take a walk A little way with me,
That we might have a little talk About our wedding day.
6 We walked along both side by side Till we come to a silent place $
I took a stick from off the fence And struck her in the face.
7 She fell down on her bended knee And loud for mercy did cry,
"For heaven's sake, don't murder me, I'm unprepared to die."
8 I heeded not her mercy cry, But struck her all the more,
. Till I saw the^innocent blood That I could never restore.
9 I run my hands in her coal-black hair, I swung her round and round;
I threw her in a clear water stream That flowed through Lexington.
10 As I went down to my workshop, I met my servant, John;
He asked me why I looked so pale And yet so very worn.
11 "And what is the cause of all that blood Upon your hands and clothes?"
The answer was that I replied, " 7Twas the bleeding of my nose."
12 I lit my candle and went to my room And thought that I would rest,
It seemed to me that flames of fire Were burning in my breast.
13 Young men, young men, take warning from me? And if your sweetheart's true,
Don't ever let the devil get The upper hand on you.
THE RICH OLD LADY
No. 204. James Baker (Iron Head), Sugarland, Texas, 1934.. See Sh, 1:348; Cox, p. 464. Tune, see "Lily Munro," p. 170.
A few variants and fragments of British ballads, such as this one, have been found among Southern Negroes. On the whole, however, this tradition was absorbed and creatively used by the Negro people rather than perpetuated in terms of specific songs. The incisive and clean-cut story-telling technique, the use of incremental repetition, the handling of dramatic dialogue, the stanza form to be found in "John Henry," "Po' Laz'us," "Frankie," and others, were, in all likelihood, indirectly derived from the
classical English and Scottish tradition; but to this already rich technique, the Negro brought a genius for direct, introspective penetration into the emotions of his characters, and a wealth of melodic and thematic ideas of his own.
James Baker, whose prison nickname is Iron Head, knew four or five songs and ballads of British derivation. As he sang, he closed his eyes and sat stiff and straight in his chair in the posture of the traditional ballad singer; but his melodies, though basically British, had been decorated in a fashion that made them not only a very individual, but a most exquisite British song set.
1 Once I knowed old lady,
Round Tennessee did dwell.
She had a lovin' husband,
But she loved other mens as well.
Chorus: Love my darlin'-o,
I love my darlin'-o,
2 "I'm goin' down to the doctor's shop
Just as straight as I can go,
See if I can't find sumpen 'roun' that place
That'll run my husband blind."
3 She only found two marrowbones,
An' she told him to eat them all,
Says, "Now, I'm blin', my dear young wife,
An' I jes' can't see at all.
4 "Honey, I would go and drown myself If I only knew the way."
Says, "Now, my dear, come and go with me, Mother's 'fraid you'll run astray."
5 Goes way down by the riverside, For to see her old man drown.
"My dear kind wife, I cannot drown, Unless you shove me in."
6 She gits way back, takes a little runnin' start,
Gonna shove her old man in;
Old man jumps just a little one side,
An' a-headlong She jumps in.
7 She whoops and she hollers,
Just as loud as any woman could squall;
Old man know his sweet wife's dyin',
An' cannot see at all.
8 Old man bein' so kind-hearted,
Knowin' too his sweet wife could not swim,
Reached right down and git a long pole
And he shoves her further in.
9 Come all you young, hasty women, An' take warnin' after me,
Don't never try to drown a po' old man That's blind so he cannot see.
Chorus:
Love my darlin'-o, I love my darlin'-o.