Little Mathy Groves- Baker (AR) 1961
[From: The John Quincy Wolf Folklore Collection.
R. Matteson 2012, 2015]
LITTLE MATHY GROVES - Sung by: Mrs. Clyde Baker. Recorded by John Quincy Wolf, Jr. in Heber Springs, AR 9/7/61
(Listen: )
Hallow, hallow, hallow, hallow,
Was the very first day in the year.
Little Mathy Groves, he went to church.
He went to church to hear,
He went to church to hear.
The first came in was a gay lady;
The next came in was a girl.
The next came in was Lord Arnold’s wife,
The fairest of them all,
The fairest of them all.
On little Mathy Groves, she cast her eyes,
Saying, “Come, go home with me.”
“Oh, no,” he said, “You’re Lord Arnold’s wife,
I can tell by the rings you wear.
I can tell by the rings you wear.”
“What if I am Lord Arnold’s wife?
Lord Arnold’s not at home.
He’s over on yons riverside,
French general gone to see,
French general gone to see.”
Oh, little foot page was standing by,
Hearing what was said.
He took to his heels and away he ran,
‘Til he came to the riverside,
‘Til he come to the riverside.
“What news, what news, little foot page,
Suppose you brought to me?”
“Little Mathy Groves is at your house,
Gone home with your gay little wife,
Gone home with your gay little wife.”
“If this be true, my little foot page,
Suppose you brought to me,
My only daughter in this wide world,
Your wedded wife shall be,
Your wedded wife shall be.”
Lord Arnold formed his men in line,
Commanded not a word to be said,
Nor horn to be blown,
But the very head man of this company
Knew little Mathy Groves well,
Knew little Mathy Groves well.
He put his bugle to his mouth;
He blew it loud and shrill.
He put his bugle to his mouth;
He blew it loud and shrill.
“Oh hush, oh hush,” said Little Mathy Groves,
“I hear Lord Arnold’s horn.”
“Oh, no,” she said, “That’s father’s boy
Driving the sheep from the corn,
Driving the sheep from the corn.”
“Oh, how do you like my coverlet?
How do you like my sheet?
How do you like my gay little wife,
That lies in your arms to sleep,
That lies in your arms to sleep?”
“Very well, I like your coverlet;
Very well I like your sheets.
Much better I like your gay little wife
That lies in my arms asleep,
That lies in my arms to sleep.”
“Oh, get you up, Little Mathy Groves,
And put on your clothes,
For to kill and slay an unclothed man
I never do intend,
I never do intend.”
“Oh no, oh no,” said little Mathy Groves,
“My life is daresome now.
You have by your side two shining swords,
And I have not a knife,
And I have not a knife.”
“What if I have two shining swords;
They cost me deep in the purse.
I will give to you the very best one,
And I will take the worse,
And I will take the worse.”
The very first lick Little Mathy Groves struck,
He wounded deep in the side,
But the very first lick Lord Arnold struck,
Little Mathy could fight no more,
Little Mathy could fight no more.
“Come to here to me, my gay little wife,
Sit here on my knee,
And tell me the truth, which you love the best,
Little Mathy Groves or me,
Little Mathy Groves or me?”
“Very well I like your rosy cheeks.
Very well I like your chin.
Much better I love little Mathy Groves
Than you and all your kin,
Than you and all your kin.”
He took her by her lily-white hand,
And led her down the plain,
And took from his side a shining sword,
And split her head in twain,
And split her head in twain.
Oh, listen to the night bird sing,
The little sparrow sigh,
For the people Lord Arnold has killed today,
Tomorrow he must die,
Tomorrow he must die.
(Mrs. Baker: “I'm give out. That’s a long song.”
Dr. Wolf: “Mrs. Clyde Baker of Heber Springs just sang a very fine version of the rare ballad ‘Little Mathy Groves.’”)