The House Carpenter- Vass (VA) pre1959 Shellans
[From: Herbert Shellans "Folks Songs of the Blue Ridge Mountains; 1968. His notes follow.
R. Matteson 2016]
One of the oldest traditional English ballads still strongly current in the United States is "The House Carpenter," known in earlier times as '"James Harris" or "The Daemon Lover." The prodigious Pepys collection contains an early broadside version, dated 1685. Most of the old forms of the ballad possess supernatural elements and qualities of otherworldliness that have largely disappeared from American versions. For example, our song simply relates the story of a man who has "Just returned from
the salt, salt sea" and finds that his "own true love" is "married to a house carpenter." He convinces her to forsake her "fine young man" and "sweet little babe" and sail away with him to "where the grass grows green on the banks of the deep blue sea." Once sea-borne, she repents, but too late, for "they sprang a leak in the bottom of the ship and she sank to rise no more." Absent is the ghost or "Spirit" of a seaman with "cloven foot" and gone are "the hills of heaven" and "the mountain of
hell."
The House Carpenter- Sung by Mr. John Daniel Vass, without accompaniment, Hillsville, Virginia, March 27, 1959.
"Well met, well met, my own true love,
Well met, well met," said he;
"I've just returned from the salt, salt sea,
And it's all for the love of thee.
"I once could have married a king's daughter fair,
And she would have married me;
But I refused her crowns of gold,
And it's all for the sake of thee."
"Too late, too late, my old true love,
Too late, too late," said she;
"For I've been married to a house carpenter,
And I think he's a fine young man."
"Would you forsake your house carpenter
And go along with me?
I'll take you where the grass grows green
On the banks of the deep blue sea."
She then picked up her sweet little babe
And kisses gave it three;
"Stay here, stay here, my sweet little babe,
And keep your pa company."
She had not been on sea two weeks,
I'm sure it was not three,
When this young lady begin to weep,
And she wept most bitterly.
"Are you weepin' about your house carpenter,
Or is it about your store?
Or is it about your sweet little babe
That you never will see any more?"
"It's not about my house carpenter,
Nor neither about my store;
I'm weepin' for my sweet little babe
That I never will see any more."
She had not been on sea three weeks,
I'm sure it was not four,
Till they sprang a leak in the bottom of the ship
And she sank to rise no more.