Lord Barnet- female singer (JM) 1957 Leach
[My title. From: What Shall We Do with "Little Matty Groves"? by MacEdward Leach; The Journal of American Folklore, Vol. 76, No. 301 (Jul. - Sep., 1963), pp. 189-194.
See also three versions from Jamaica collected by Beckwith: Little Musgrove- Forbes A B; Little Musgrove- Maroons C. Also versions from St. Vincent (Abrahams) and St Croix (recording Matty Gru). Leach's notes follow.
There is a version of Child 81 from Virginia title Lord Barney (See Davis: More TBVa). Two versions of Love Henry (Young Hunting) from Florida are titled Lord Barney.
R. Mateson 2015]
One May afternoon in 1957 I was collecting folklore in the old city of Port Royal, Jamaica. It was a warm, still day. Shimmering waves of heat rolled up from the beach sands. Above the tide mark fifty men were hewing out the hugh boles of giant silk cotton trees to make the great dugout canoes. Across the alleyway a group of women were gathered in a small adobe house, laughing, talking, and singing. They had readily consented to my setting up the tape recorder in one corner of the already overcrowded room. The singing, joking, laughing went on. The women were of all ages, all very black, and all dressed in single garments-Mother Hubbard affairs that hung loosely from their shoulders to their knees. Much of the singing was improvised; songs were like the digging songs with pronounced rhythms and monotonous repetitions, with now and then an incremental line leading into the next set of repetitions. The textual unit was the phrase. There was whooping laughter between songs and appreciative bursts when a particular singer scored off someone with what was evidently a telling dig. A dozen children slipped around among the moving figures or clambered into spacious laps of those seated on the broken-down sofa at one side. Three old men, ragged and dirty, added to the confusion as they prodded and pinched with senile giggles any available woman.
An hour went by. Bending over the machine adjusting tape, I was aware of a sudden silence. I looked up astonished to see a white woman standing there; she was tall and straight and very blond. Her blondness, her blue eyes, were startling by contrast. Like the others, she wore the Mother Hubbard, hanging loose and ragged to her bare legs. A fat, button-eyed black baby rode astride her hip. Port Royal is still the Kasbah of the Caribbean; one must be prepared for anything. The woman who owned the house addressed the girl, "Mistress, I hope you would sing yu murder song fe us and dis man." She nodded, smiled, and hoisting the baby to a more secure position, she sang:
[music] Sung with ritard only after last stanza
[Lord Barnet]
"Will you take a walk in the garden with me? [1]
I'll show you the finest rose,
The finest rose your eyes ever seed
And your eyes will sparkle with joy."
"You asked me to take a walk with you,
It's more than I can do
For the rings on your finger were tollen to me
That you are the Barnet's wife."
Lord Barnet is not at home;
He has gone six miles to Almand town
And will not come back till morn.
A little boy hid under the bush;
He heard of the whispering song.
He walked three miles and drove three miles
To tell the lord what was done.
"My lord, my lord, if you know what I know,
Not a piece of that meal for you."
"Is my house burnt down or mine ass gone astray
Or my fair young lady dead?"
"Your house is not burned nor your ass gone astray,
Neither is your lady dead,
But young Prince Law sleep now with her,
And that's what I've come to tell."
"I think I hear a whisper come down.
Is your husband coming home,
Is your husband coming home, my dear?
Let me get up and go."
"Lie down, lie down, my young Prince Law
And keep your body from the cold;
It is my father's sheep they've driven in;
They've driven to the fold."
Five minutes more Lord Barnet came
With a raging fire and sword
And saw Prince Law unto his bed
Close combine to his wife.
Arise, arise, my young Prince Law
And a piece of your clothes put on,
That no man will ever tittle [sic] to say
I slaughtereda naked man.
The first blow Lord Barnet gave Prince Law
He struck him to the ground;
The second blow he gave Prince Law
He could no longer rise.
"To you, my lady, farewell this night;
I and you shall part tonight,"
And then he drew his glittering sword
And pushed it through her heart.
Prince Law sleep now with you,
Prince Law sleep now with you.
He saddled a horse and mounted aback
With vengeance I need not tell you,
He walked three miles and drove three miles
To see what he could do.
1. Stanza 1 only seems to be unintentional