Lord Thomas & Fa'r Elinor- Means (SC) 1899 Smith D

Lord Thomas & Fa'r Elinor- Means (SC) 1899 Smith D

[From the article A Singular Literary Survival by C. E. Means published in The Outlook (SC) 1899. It also appears as Reed Smith's  D version (South Carolina Ballads) where she is named: fa'r Elinor.

Means article follows.

R. Matteson 2014]


A Singular Literary Survival

By C. E. Means

IN the South Atlantic States, before the Civil War, there were scattered here and there a singular class of people—a set of squatters without character, without possessions, without aspirations. Most of them could barely read, and their writing was crude in spelling and character.

The habitations of these people were tumble-down log cabins, considered unfit for the occupancy of the negroes. The good-natured landowner would allow a family to remain without paying rent, until the illicit trading with his negroes for goods stolen from him became too annoying to be endured. Warning would be given to the offenders to leave the premises at once. They would go without protest, to be succeeded in a few weeks by others of the same ilk. In fact, these people moved in circles, and in five or six years were pretty apt to be doing business at the old stand.

These people were called "poor white folks," the "poor whites," "poor buckra." Never "crackers;" the latter were more Americans. "Poor buckra" they were always called by the negroes. Buckra was, with the black man. the generic name of the white man. "Poor buckra" belonged to this class of people specifically, and was a term of obloquy. Between the negro and the "poor buckra " there existed a bitter class hatred—a hatred born, perhaps, of the familiarity that breeds contempt The "poor buckra " were necessary to the negroes, as the receivers of the stolen wares which the negroes considered to be only the perquisites of servitude. They knew perfectly well that the "poor buckra," after disposing of cotton, corn, peas, and other articles consigned to him as middleman, always kept the lion's share of the profits.

The "poor buckra" had no visible means of support, and this surreptitious trade with the negroes was his avenue of income. He was cunning enough to keep within bounds, and rarely made himself sufficiently criminal to provoke the planters to seek any legal steps to repress the petty thievings. Work was unknown to

him. Now and then one might maul rails for a few days at a time, but the regular occupation of the men was hunting rabbits and squirrels and fishing. The women spun a very little, wove less, and begged, in a whining way, a good deal from the gentry. To the landowners these people were subservient in demeanor but malicious in deed. It was from these people that the conscripts of the Confederate service were drawn, and they were also deserters if opportunity offered.

Mr. Roosevelt, in his " Making of the Great West," says that " the ' poor buckra' are the descendants of indentured servants and redemptioners who had fled from the plantations on the coast from their severe masters and squatted on the hills at the foot of the mountains." Their hatred of the wealthier class he considers as a heritage from generation to generation. Certainly there still exists among these people a pure English strain of names and phrases not found among other uneducated whites of the South. Take the names of women: Selina Horn, Susannah Rochester, Elizabeth Abernathy. Grandsir (grandsire) is used instead of the cracker's granddaddy or grandpap.

Most interesting of all survivals, however, are the old English ballads still sung by these people. A slight local coloring has crept in, words substituted for others of analogous sound; but the spirit, the sense and sensibility, of the romance song are entirely preserved.

For the purpose of comparison, the ballad "Lord Thomas and Fair Elinor" is transcribed from Percy's Reliques. Dr. Percy says, by way of introduction: "Lord Thomas and Fair Elinor is given from an ancient copy of black letter in Pepys's collection entitled 'A tragical ballad on the unfortunate loves of Lord Thomas and fair Elinor, together with the downfall of the browne girl.' In the same collection may be seen an attempt to modernize this old song and reduce it to different measure—a proof of its popularity:"

Lord Thomas he was a bold forrester 
And a chaser of King's deere.
Fair Elinor was a fine woman, 
And Lord Thomas he loved his deere.

"Come riddle my riddle, dear mother," he said,
"And riddle us both in one:
Whether I shall marry with faire Elinor,
And lett the browne girl alone?"

"The browne girl she has houses and lands,
Faire Elinor she has got none.
And therefore I charge thee on my blessinge
To bring the browne girl home."

As it befell on a high holiday,
 As many there are beside,
Lord Thomas he went to faire Elinor,
That should have been his bride.

And when he came to faire Elinor's bower
  He  knocked there at the ring,
And who was so ready as faire Elinor
To lett Lord Thomas within.

"What newes? What newes? Lord Thomas," she sayed,
"What newes dost thou bring to me?"
"I am come to bid thee to my weddynge,
And that is bad newes for thee."

"O God forbid, Lord Thomas!" she sayed,
"That such a thing should be done.
I thought to have been the bride myself, 
And thou to have been the bridegroom."

"Come riddle my riddle, deare mother," she sayed,
"And riddle it all in one:
Whether I shall goe to Lord Thomas his weddynge,
'Or whether shall tarry at home?"

"There are mayne that are thy friends, daughter,
  And mayne a one your foe;
Therefore I charge you on my blessynge
To Lord Thomas his weddynge don't goe."

"There are mayne that are my friends, mother,
But were every one my foe,
Betide mee life, betide mee death,
To Lord Thomas his weddynge I'll goe."

She cloathed herself in gallant attire, 
And her merry men all in greene,
And as they rid through every town  
They took her to be some queene.

But when she came to Lord Thomas his gate,
  She knocked there at the ring;
And who was so ready as Lord Thomas
To lett faire Elinor in.

"Is this your bride?" faire Elinor cried.
"Methinks she looks wondrous browne!
You might have had as faire a woman
As ever trod the ground."

"Despise her not, faire Ellin," he sayed,
  Despise her not unto mee;
For better I love youre little finger
Than all her whole bodye."

The browne girl had a little penknife,   
It was both long and snarpe,
And betwixt the short rib and the long  
She prick'd faire Elinor's hearte.

"O Christ thee save!" Lord Thomas he sayed.
"Methinks thou look'st wondrous wan.
Thou usest to have as fresh a color
As ever the sun shone on."

"O art thou blind, Lord Thomas," she sayed,
"Or canst thou not very well see,
O dost thou not see my own heart's bloode  
Run trickling down my knee?"

Lord Thomas he had a sworde by his side,
As he walked about the hall.
He cut off his bride's head from her shoulders
And threw it against the wall.

He sett the hilt against the ground, 
And the point against his nearte.
There never threelovers together did meet,  
That sooner again did parte.

Now let us look at the "poor buckra" version of this ballad:

Lord Thomas rode up to far [fair] Elinor's door,
And tingled on the ring.
There was none so ready as far [fair] Elinor herself
To let Lord Thomas in.

"What news? What news?" fair Elinor cried,
"What news, what news?" cried she.
"I've come to ask you to my wedding!"
"Oh, very bad news!" said she.

"Come mother, oh mother, riddle these words;
 O riddle this riddle for me:
Shall I go to Lord Thomas' wedding,
Or tarry at home with thee?"

"I'll riddle your riddle," her mother said,
"I'll riddle the riddle in three:
Don't go to Lord Thomas' wedding,
But tarry at home with me."

Fair Elinor dressed herself in white,  
Her servants she dressed in green,
And as she rode all through the town  
They took her to be some queen.
 
She rode up to Lord Thomas' door,
And tingled on the ring;
There was none so ready as Lord Thomas himself
To let fair Elinor in.

He took her by her lily-white hand
And led her up the hall,
And thar he sot her at the head of the bed,
Amongst the neighbors all.

"Is this your bride?" fair Elinor cried."  
"Why, she looks wonderful brown.
You might have married as fair a girl
   As ever the sun shone on!"

The brown gal had a little penknife,
It was both keen and small;
She stuck it in fair Elinor's heart,
Amongst the neighbors all.

Lord Thomas he had a little keen sword,   
It was both keen and small;
He took and cut off the brown gal's head 
And kicked it against the wall.

As he went shuffeling [shuffling] over the floor,
 The p'int stuck in his breast.
Was ever three earthly lovers so soon
Sent to their heavenly rest?

The first four verses of Percy's ballad, used to introduce characters and circumstances, are lost in the poor buckra version. It opens with the visit of Lord Thomas to fair Elinor, and her question, "What news?" at once brings the announcement of his wedding. She cries out, "Very bad news!" and thus the information of their love is understood. Her mother's warning is shorter but quite as positive. Her determination to go, as announced in her dressing servants and self in their best, is quite as positive as if she had spoken out her disregard of her mother's advice.

"Tingled at the ring" is more euphonious than

"Knocked there at the ring."

Fair Elinor's arrival at Lord Thomas's door has the reiteration of the Percy version, but a more dramatic turn is given when—

"He took her by her lily-white hand
And led her up the hall,
And thar he sot her at the head of the bed,
Amongst the neighbors all."

This marked honor shown by the bridegroom to his old sweetheart ignited the spark that was fanned to so fierce a flame by fair Elinor's own bad-mannered and ill-natured strictures on the bride's swarthy skin in comparison with her own fairness. The Nemesis,

"Cut off the brown gal's head
And kicked it against the wall,"

is more realistic than

"He cut off his bride's head from her shoulders
And threw it against the wall."

The last verse of the poor buckra version evidently has been tinkered on by some one of pious proclivity.

"Earthly lovers" hurried off to "heavenly rest," despite jealous rage and murder, even if Lord Thomas's death was accident and not suicide, smacks of revival meetings, at the outer edge of which the poor buckra sometimes, perhaps, " got religion."