Lexington Girl- Pete Steele (KY-OH) 1938 Lomax
[My title- the given title, Knoxville Girl, is wrong since Lexington is the only city mentioned. Library of Congress recording AFC 1938/004. Berea College, Hutchins Library, Department of Special Collections and Archives noted follow.
Recording level is too low, 1st stanza is an educated guess, This is an old version.
http://digital.berea.edu/cdm/singleitem/collection/p16020coll13/id/143/rec/2
R. Matteson 2016]
Alan Lomax made these recordings March 30, 1938 at the Steele home in Hamilton, Ohio. He had become aware of Pete Steel’s remarkable banjo virtuosity at the Ohio Valley Folk Festival in Cincinnati a few days earlier. Born March 5, 1891, Pete grew up in the Corbin - London, Kentucky area. At age nineteen he married London native, Lillie Swanner. Over several years’ time he held a variety of jobs in various parts of Indiana and Ohio as well as Kentucky. It was from East Bernstadt near London that in 1937 the family moved to Hamilton, Ohio. There Mr. Steele joined the ranks of the many other rural Kentuckians who had found dependable work at the Champion Paper Company.
Lexington Girl- sung by Lillie and Pearl Steele of Hamilton, Ohio, with banjo by Pete Steele on March 30, 1938. Recorded by Alan Lomax. Learned in Butler County, Kentucky from Clara Boyd (?) known for 23 years. [Quick transcription, R. Matteson 2016]
My parents raised me tenderly
Provided for me well
And in the city of Lexington
They placed me in a mill.
Was there I spied a pretty fair maid,
On her I cast my eye
I promised her I'd marry her
If she would with me lie.
It was on one Saturday night,
Oh cursed by the day;
The devil put it in my heart
To take her life away.
I asked the girl to take a walk,
About a little ways;
That she and I may have a talk,
About our wedding day.
Side by side, we walked along,
Till we came beside a lake,
I grabbed a stick from off of the fence,
And struck her in the face.
Then on her bending knees she fell,
For mercy loud did cry;
"For heaven's sake, don't murder me here
For I'm not prepared to die."
I paid no attention to what she said,
But stroked her all the more;
Until I saw her innocent blood
That [I] never could restore.
I wound my hands in her coal-black[1] hair,
To offer up my sin;
I dragged her to the river bank,
And there I plunged her in.
As I returned back to my mill,
I met my foreman John;
"How come you look so pale,
And yet you so very warm?[2]"
"How come blood [is] all on your hands,
And all on your hands and clothes?"
I answered her so instantly
"From bleeding at the nose."
I lit my candle and went to bed,
I think I'll take my rest,
It seems as though the flames of hell,
Were burning in my breast.
Come all you men a warning take,
Oh to your lovers be true,
Don't never let the devil get
The upper hand of you.
1. unclear
2. originally "wan" as "pale and wan".