The Four Marys- Riddle (AR) c1906 Hunter/Wolf REC
[From a recording by Max Hunter in 1965 and several recordings from Wolf Folklore circa 1970. Also published in A Singer and her Songs; Abrahams, 1970 (upcoming). Following are the notes and versions of this ballad by Almeida Riddle, a fine ballad singer from Arkansas.
According to information supplied by Riddle, she remembered that she knew the ballad after hearing it sung by Abrahams circa 1964. Riddle (born in 1898) found a version of the ballad written by her sister by 1904 in a trunk and also "one old lady at Pangburn that says I learned the song from her when I was five years old--or six." So I've dated it c. 1906 to be safe. Riddle had many print ballad books as well as versions she collected over the years from family and friends. Despite her explanations, it seems to me that she adapted the ballad around 1964, probably from print and her recollections.
R. Matteson 2015]
Wolk Folklore Version 1; c. 1970
Riddle: "Well, this song is no different--the version isn't--than what I've always done, but actually there was about thirty or forty, possibly fifty years that I didn't do this song. I had forgotten it. I did do it with my younger sister, who died when I was six years old, and then for years I didn't sing the song. I finally ran across the ballad in an old trunk of my mother's again, and for the last few years I've been doing it. I always remembered the tune of the song, but it is a different version to what I have heard other singers. However, I have run across one old lady at Pangburn that says I learned the song from her when I was five years old--or six, somewhere about that--and I have come across two more people that knew this version of 'The Four Mary's.' See, most of the versions, you see Mary Hamilton really did murder her illegitimate son. (I'm so tired. I've been up so long!) But as we know, there never was a body found. The child's body was not found--we know that--if you've studied folklore, and in the version which I do, the child was stillborn. Then she did cast it into the sea, as Joan Baez's version is, and in some of the Child's versions, I believe. I couldn't tell you exactly; I've read a number of versions. But this one I have never heard sung other than in White County, which I live just on the edge of White and Cleburne County, in Pangburn, Arkansas, and I've heard two other . . . one from Kansas . . . his aunt, that sung this version. Let's see now, we'll try it. I'm so very tired and hoarse that I don't know if I'll get it."
THE FOUR MARYS
Last night there were four Marys;
This night there’ll only be three--
Mary Eaton, and Mary Beaton,
And Mary Carmichael and me.
Last night I washed my queen’s feet,
And I put the gold braids in her hair.
Now the onliest thing it’s ever going to bring
To me is a death full sore.
For word is in the kitchen,
And the word’s all out in the hall,
That Mary Hamilton’s great with child
To the highest Stuart of them all.
He courted her in the kitchen;
Then he courted her in the hall.
Oh, he courted her in the low cellar,
And that was the time of it all.
Mary Hamilton walks and she’s weeping,
Alone by the dark blue sea.
“I’ll bear my Stuart child alone,
And ‘twill be the death o' me.”
And her wee one was stillborn;
Then she cast it into the sea.
“Lie there, lie there; ye are the king’s grandson,
And you'll have no more need of me.”
Now down hath come the old queen,
And the gold braids still in her hair.
“Oh, Mary Hamilton, where is the child,
For I heard him grieving full sore?”
“There has never been a wee bairn here,
As anybody could see.
Oh, it’s just this pain in my poor heart,
And the weeping ye heard, it was me.”
“Then put on your dress of red, my dear,
Or either a black or a brown,
For before tomorrow’s sun shall set,
I will ride ye through Edinborough town.”
And she neither put on a dress of red,
Nor yet a black or a brown,
But arrayed herself in the purest of white,
Yet they rode her through Edinborough town.
And when she walked into Edinborough court,
Now, the heel came off'n her shoe.
‘Twas in the courts at Edinborough
That she was condemned to die.
And it’s little did my poor old mother think,
That day she was a-cradling of me,
These distant lands I’d have to roam,
And the death I would have to die e’en.
----------------
Wolf Folklore version 2; c. 1970
THE FOUR MARYS
Sung by: Almeda Riddle
(Comment by Mrs. Riddle: "I believe this. You'll see no performing because, in the first place, I wouldn't know how, I suppose, and I wouldn't if I could, because I firmly and fully believe if there's anything that I could teach you--I have the classes, the few I have taught--that you don't, please, don't perform a folksong, or a ballad especially. You present that. Get behind it. It will entertain. If you render your ballad it will entertain enough. And I'm not an entertainer. If it entertains you, then I'm glad, but I'm not an entertainer. So I have nothing to lose. I get the words right, well . . .")
Last night there were four Marys,
And tonight there’ll only be three.
There was Mary Eaton, and Mary Seton,
And Mary Carmichael, and me.
Last night I washed my queen’s feet,
And I put gold braids in her hair,
And the onliest thing it’s ever going to bring,
Is me meet this death so sore.
For word is in the kitchen--
The word’s gone down in the hall--
That Mary Hamilton’s great with child
To the highest Stewart of them all.
He courted her in the kitchen,
And he courted her in the hall.
He courted her in the low cellar . . .
(Comment by Mrs. Riddle: “I’m sorry. That’s Abrams’ [sic] version. We’re going to back up. I’m going to sing it authentically as I found it on the old ballad.”)
He promised her the whole wide world,
But he gave to her nothing at all.
Mary Hamilton walks weeping,
All down by the lonely blue sea.
“I’ll bear my Stewart child alone,
And ‘twill be the death o' me.”
When her wee bairn was stillborn,
She cast him into the sea.
“Lie there, lie there. You’re the king’s grandson,
And ye'll have no more of me.”
Then down hath come the old queen,
And the gold braids still in her hair.
“Oh, Mary Hamilton, where’s that child?
I heard him crying full sore.”
“There hath never been no wee bairn here,
As you plainly can see.
It’s just this pain in my poor heart,
And the weeping ye heard was me.”
“Put on your dress of red, my dear,
Or either black or brown,
For before tomorrow’s sun shall set,
I’m going to ride you through Edinborough town.”
Now, she neither put on a dress of red,
Nor the black or brown,
But arrayed herself in the purest of white.
Yet they rode her through Edinborough town.
When they first entered Edinborough town,
A heel came off on her shoe,
And in the courts of Edinborough town,
She was condemned to die.
Last night there were four Marys,
And tonight there’ll only be three.
There’s Mary Eaton, and Mary Beaton,
Mary Carmichael, and me.
------------------
Wolf Folklore Version 3; c. 1970
THE FOUR MARYS
Sung by: Almeda Riddle
(Mrs. Riddle: “Ready? ’The Four Mary’s.’ Now, before I do this, there is some controversy and probably will be between you students and professors on this version of it, but this is as I learned it as a child. And if you’ll remember, in reading it, the body of the child was not found, so if my version wants to claim that it was born dead, all right, that’s the way I’m still going to sing it. We’ll let Joan Baez sing it her version.”)
Last night there were four Marys,
And this night there’ll only be three.
Mary Eaton, and Mary Seton,
And Mary Carmichael and me.
Last night I washed my queen’s feet,
And I put the gold braids in her hair.
Now the onliest thing that it’s ever going to bring
To me is a death full sore.
For word is in the kitchen,
Now the word’s gone out in the hall,
That Mary Hamilton’s great with child
To the highest Stuart of them all.
He courted her in the kitchen;
Then he courted her in the hall.
When he courted her in the low cellar,
That was the time of it all.
Mary Hamilton walks and she’s weeping,
And alone down by the sea.
“I’ll bear this Stuart child alone,
And ‘twill be the death of me.”
And the wee bairn was stillborn,
And they cast it into the sea.
“Lie there, lie there; ye are the king’s grandson,
But you have no more need of me.”
Now down has come the old queen,
And the gold braids still in her hair.
“Oh, Mary Hamilton, where is your child,
For I heard it a-crying full sore?”
“There hath never been a wee bairn here,
And anybody could see,
Oh, it’s just this pain in my poor heart,
And the weeping ye heard, it was me.”
“Then put on your dress of red, my dear,
Or either a black or brown,
For before tomorrow’s sun shall set,
I will ride ye through Edinborough town.”
And she neither put on a dress of red,
Nor yet a black or brown.
She arrayed herself in the purest of white,
Yet they rode her through Edinborough town.
And when she walked into Edinborough court,
Now, a heel came off on her shoe.
‘Twas in the courts at Edinborough
That she was condemned to die.
Oh, it’s little did my poor old mother think,
. . . day she was a-cradling of me,
These distant lands I’d have to roam,
And the death I would have to die e’en.
Last night there were four Marys,
And this night there’ll only be three.
Mary Eaton, and Mary Seton,
Queen Mary ‘twill be beheading of me.
(Mrs. Riddle: “That’s the way I learned it as a child.”
Dr. Wolf: “Who taught it to you?”
Mrs. Riddle: “Do you remember going to a Grandma Gray?" Dr. Wolf: "Yes, indeed." Mrs. Riddle: "I knew a part of this, and because it was only a fragment, for several years I wouldn’t sing it much. And finally . . . and going through an old trunk of my mother’s, I found the tablet of my little sister's that died when I was about six years old. And a part of this, most of this ballad, this latter part from ‘Mary Hamilton walks and weeping down to the lonely sea,’ was there, but the first part of it wasn’t. And I kept asking and asking all through White County, Cleburne County and, because I knew the first part, and that finished up the ballad, I wouldn’t sing it much because I think possibly some people, including Dr. Abrams, thought that I had written this verse, because they never had heard it before. And, uh, I couldn’t . . . I wouldn’t be smart enough to write a song, and if I did, I wouldn’t call it a folk song and tear up a traditional Child’s ballad while I was doing it. But, anyway, I was coming back from here from Memphis. Went back through Pangburn, spent the night, and went out to see Grandma Gray, and I sang down to this verse that the controversy was about, and I said, ‘Now, can you finish that ballad for me?’ And she commenced right where I do, ‘Mary Hamilton walks and a-weeping down by the lonely sea,’ and with the exception that I had forgotten about the verse that said, ‘As she went through Edinborough town or into Edinborough court, the heel come off her shoe,’ I’d forgotten that. And I said, ‘Now tell me, I knew that, I tricked you into singing that (she was then about 86, incidentally, still living, still singing), now where did I learn that?’ And she said, ‘From me, when you were about five years old.’ So you see, right back where I’d learned it. And she tells me that her people came from Ireland. They were Scotch-Irish, as my grandparents were, and she tells me that that is a Scotch-Irish version. Now, that I wouldn’t know.”
Dr. Wolf: “Well, I see no reason to doubt that that version did come from over there.”
Mrs. Riddle: “I think so. The McPeek family now, old Grandpa McPeek, who is around 90, he tells me too that this is a Scotch-Irish version that I do of ‘The Four Marys.’”
Dr. Wolf: “Now, you see, it changes the story somewhat in the version . . . In the version you read in your textbook it isn’t clear whether the queen is angry with Mary and whether she orders her death because the king has been intimate with her, or for some other reason, or because she killed her baby.”
Mrs. Riddle: “Well, in this version that I do, you see, it’s the king’s son, because it’s the king’s grandson.”
Dr. Wolf: “The baby’s born dead.”
Mrs. Riddle: “Dead.”
Dr. Wolf: “So that second motive is eliminated.”
Mrs. Riddle: “But yet, was there . . . Is there ever any place where there was a body of this child found? I’ve never found it. There was no body found.”
Dr. Wolf: “As far as I know, no.”
Mrs. Riddle: “I never . . .”
Dr. Wolf: “All right. You can cut that off while we talk about the next . . .”)
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Max Hunter Collection; 1965 Listen: http://maxhunter.missouristate.edu/songinformation.aspx?ID=583
Four Mary's: Cat. #0583 (MFH #422) - As sung by Almeda Riddle, Heber Springs, Arkansas on October 23, 1965
VERSE 1
Last night there were four Mary's
Tonight there'll only be three
There was Mary Eaton, an Mary Beaton
Mary Carmichel an' me.
VERSE 2
Last night I washed my queens feet
An' I put gold braids in her hair
An' the only'est thing it's ever gonna bring
To me is this death so sore
VERSE 3
For word is in the kit-chin
An' words gone out in the hall
That Mary Hamilton goes out with child
To the highest Stewert of them all
VERSE 4
He courted her in the kit-chin
He courted her in the hall
He promised her the whole wide world
But he gave to her nothing at all.
VERSE 5
Mary Hamilton walks a weepin'
Down by the lonely sea
I'll bare' this Stewert child alone
An' twill be the death o' me
VERSE 6
Her wee barn was still born
She cast 'im in to the sea
Lie there, lie there, your Kings grandson
But you'll have no more of me
VERSE 7
Now, down hath come her old Queen
With the gold braids still in 'er hair
O, Mary Hamilton where's your child
I heard crying full sore
VERSE 8
There n'er hath been a wee barn
Anyone plainly can see
T'is but this pain in my poor heart
And the weeping you heard it was me
VERSE 9
Well, put on your dress of red, my dear
Or 'ither black or brown
For before tomorrows sun shall sink
Gonna ride you throuh Edinbrough town
VERSE 10
She n'ither put on of dress of red
Nor yet th black or the brown
But parade herself in the puriest white
Yet they rode 'er through Edinborough town
VERSE 11
And it's little did me own Mother think
Th't day she first cradled me
Th distance lands that I would roam
And the death I would have to di-e
VERSE 12
Last night there were four Marys
Tonight there'll only be three
There was Mary Eaton, and Mary Beaton
Mary Carmichel, no me