Lord Donald- Bost (NC) 1937 Brown D
[From the Brown Collection of NC Folklore- Volume 2 Ballads, 1953; music from Volume 4. The Brown editors notes follow.
For some reason (to save space?) The Brown Collection does not give the text of this version only paraphrasing it in sections. On the MS in the Abrams Collection it says, "Secured from Miss Mary Bost who obtained them from her mother- Mrs. J. S. Bost, Statesville, NC September 1937."
R. Matteson 2012, 2015]
OLDER BALLADS MOSTLY BRITISH
26. Little Musgrave and Lady Barnard (Child 81)
For the fortunes of this ballad in America (where it has lasted much better than in the country of its origin), see the admirable discussion by Barry (BBM 150-94) ; and for its geographical range, see BSM 57-8 — adding to the references there given Vermont (NGMS 135-9), Kentucky (BTFLS in 95, TKMS 62-71), North Carolina (FSRA 25-31), Missouri (OFS I 124-6), Ohio (BSO 48-51), and Michigan (BSSM 46-9). In addition to Barry's evidences for a distinctive and early American tradition for this ballad may be mentioned certain traits common to all or most of the American texts, both north and south, and rare or absent altogether in Child's British versions. One of these is the expression "cost me deep in purse" when the lord is telling of his two swords. The only approximation to this in the Child versions is in A, from a seventeenth-century print: "Full deere they cost my purse." But in America it appears in more than a score of texts ranging from Nova Scotia and Maine to North Carolina and to Missouri, sometimes in a corrupted form that shows the locution was heard but not understood, as in Cambiaire's reading "they cost me keep in purse" (ETWVMB 53). The expression sounds rather literary than dialectal, but it is a mark of the American texts. Another item peculiar to American texts is the form of punishment meted out to the lady by her injured husband". Nowhere in American texts do we find the savagery of Child A, "He cut her paps from off her breast"; but we do find, in texts ranging again from Nova Scotia to North Carolina and to Missouri, that he "split her head in twain," sometimes in a way to show that the locution was traditional but not understood: "cut her all up into twain" (TBV E), "split her head into twine" (SharpK B). The attempt of the lady by threats or bribery to prevent the page from carrying the news of her behavior to her husband, found in Child CDEFHIJKL, does not appear in American texts. That the bugle is blown as a warning by a friend of Musgrave's, a trait that appears in three of the texts in the present collection, is not exactly diagnostic; it is found in C J L of the Child versions and may perhaps be inferred in some of the others; and it appears sporadically in American texts both north and south, e.g., in BBM Fa Fb, TBV B, SCSM A, FSRA, SharpK I J K, FSSH A B, BSM, and BSSM.
D. "Lord Donald.' Secured by W. Amos Abrams, at Boone, from Mary Bost of Iredell county; just when does not appear, but some time in the thirties. It is a peculiarly disordered text. [Full text from MS below]
It was on a beautiful Sabbath morning,
Lord Donald's wife went to church,
Little Mattly Groves being there,
She spied him with an eye,
"Little Mattly Groves come home with me,
All night for to lie."
"Oh no, oh no, for the fear of my life,
For I known by the gold rings on your hand,
You are Lord Donald's wife.
If I be Lord Donald's wife,
[As] you take me for to be,
Lord Donald's by the river side,
King David for to see.
Little foot-page standing there,
went as hard as he could run,
And when he got to the river
He wet[1] his bosom and swum.
"Little foot-page, little foot page,
What news do you bring?"
"Bad news, bad news, Little Mattly Grove's
At home in bed with your lady."
"If thsi be thruth, you tell it now,
It's honor you shall have
But if it be a lie,
You'd better be in your grave."
He gathered yo his armor,
and placed them all in a row,
He charged them neither to[2] speak,
Nor bugle blow.
There are many Little Mattly Grove's friend,
And many there his foes.
One at the very head of the row
Said 'I wish Little Mattly Groves a good will'
He put his bugle to his mouth
And blowed both loud and shrill.
"Hush, hush, I hear lord Donald's horn,
It's time I was up from here and gone."
"Oh no, oh no, it's nothing but the shepherds,
Blowing for their sheep.
'It's how do you like my feather bed,
And how do you like my sheet,
And how do you like my gaily days
That I could lie in your arms and sleep?'
'Very much do I like your feather bed.
And very much do I like your sheet.
But much better do I like your gaily days
That you could lie in my arms and sleep.'
Then they fell to hugging and kissing.
And then they fell asleep.
The very first thing Little Mattly Groves knew
Lord Donald was standing at his feet,
"It's get ye up and clothing ye put on,
For it never hath and never shall be said,
That I slew a naked man."
"Must I get up an put clothing on,
And fight for my life,
While you have two swords a-hanging by your side,
And I haven't so much as a [ ] or a knife."
"If I have two swords hanging by my side,
They cost me deep in purse,
I'll give you the betterest one,
And I'll take the worst."
The very first stroke Little Mattly stroke,
Wounded Donald sore,
But the very first stroke Lord Donald stroke,
Little Mattly Groves was able to fight no more.
He took his lady on his knee,
He dangled her on his knee,
"It's who do you love the best,
Little Mattly Groves or me?"
Very much do I like your lips,
And very much do I like your chin,
But very much do I like Little Mattly Groves,
Than I do you or any of your kin."
"This is what you get,
For what you've done," he said,
He drew his sword
And in twain he split her head.
He jumped on his horse
And rode to London town,
Saying he'd slew the prettiest little woman
That ever walked the ground.
1. bent
2. originally "so"