Three Black Crows- Wallace (VT) c1870 Flanders I

Three Black Crows- Wallace (VT) c1870 Flanders I

[My date. From Flanders, Ancient Ballads; 1966; notes by Coffin follow. The source informant, Henry W. Wallace, of Woodstock (born in Rockingham, Vermont, 1833) had a version which was surely derived from this or a similar minstrel print version, The Four Vultures- Black Diamond Songster, 1863. One verse appears:

The devil thought to in-jure me,
By cutting down my apple-tree,
Brothers, sing!

I'm guestimating a date of c.1870.

R. Matteson 2014]

The Twa Corbies
(Child 26)

The tradition of "The Twa corbies" has given literature two of the most beautiful ballad poems known: the J. Ritson (Ancient Songs from the Time of King Henry the Third, to the Revolution of London, 1790], 155) and the Sir Walter Scott (Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border [New York, 1902], III, 239) texts. The Ritson "Three Ravens" is a simple, honest lyric of true love without a maudlin or sentimental touch. It tells the wish of all knights, "God send euery gentleman, such haukes, such hounds, and such a leman." The Scott "Twa Corbies," on the other hand, is cynical, desolate, and Anglo-Saxon with the finality of its closing lines, "O'er his white banes, when they are bare,
the wind sall blaw for evermair."

Thus, it is surprising to study the history of the ballad. As it is rare in Britain (Child has only one text beyond the two mentioned above), as it is not known to any extent in Canada, and as there are no European analogues, one is at a loss to explain how such a restricted oral tradition has developed such perfect poems. The answer cannot be suggested by what is found in America, either. Although it is common here, it owes its popularity to a minstrel stage burlesque that had great currency about the time of the Civil War and to its inclusion in rewritten form in books like Cleveland's Compendium of 1859. The American versions are mostly nonsense material like Flanders C-J in which two crows decide to eat a dead horse and in which there are no human actors. With their lines, such as "Oh maybe you think there is more, but there isn't" and "The Devil thought to injure me by cutting down my apple tree," they are in a real sense not Child 26 at all. However, Flanders A retains much of the spirit of "The Three Ravens" text and, like the one that Earl J. stout (Folklore from Iowa [New York, 1936], 2)found preserves the fidelity of the hounds and lady love. Such a text, sporting the borrowed "red rose" cliche, is an outstanding discovery in a tradition as corrupted as this. Flanders B, though not as true to the Ritson text, is nevertheless dignified and is not from the music hall tradition of "Billy Magee Magaw." The Scott form of the song, unburlesqued and unsentimentalized, has been discovered in America, too. See Henry W. Shoemaker, Mountain Minstrelsy (Philadelphia, 1931), 276. For an American bibliosraphy and discussion' see coffin, 52-54. Dean-smith lists itbr pug. lll, and there is an extensive study of the ballad in Hermann Tardel's ZweiLied, studien, I. Die Englisch-Schottische Roben Ballade (Bremen). Jane Zielonko's remarks in her Master's thesis, "Some American variants of Child Ballads" ([Columbia University, 1945], 7l f.), are also useful.

The large number of tune families for this ballad in BC1 indicates the diversity of tunes by which this text is accompanied. Thus it is not surprising to find the three tunes presented here to be unrelated.

I. Three Black Crows. Sung by Mrs. Ralph Edwin Jacquith of South Woodstock, Vermont, as sung by her father, Henry W. Wallace, of Woodstock (born in Rockingham, Vermont, 1833, of Willard, ancestry). This went to the tune of "Bonnie Doon"
with changes all its own as noted for the abrupt third line.

Three Black Crows

The devil thought to injure me
By cutting down my apple tree.
Sing!

He did nor injure me aye tall
For I had appulells all fall.
Sing! (more emphatically)

There were three crows sat on a tree
And they were black as black could be,
Si-ing! (a little louder every time)

Said one old crow unto his mate,
"What shall we do for meat to ate?"
Se-hing! (almost blowing your nose)

"There lies a horse on yonder plain
And he has lately there been slain."
Se-hing! (more forcefully).

We'll perch ourselves on his jawbone
And pick his eyes out one by one."
Se-Hing! (almost weep over the word,)