US & Canada Versions: 51. Lizie Wan
[US and Canada Versions of Child 51 Lizie Wan are rare. "Fair Lucy," the Vermont version, first learned from Newell Slayton circa 1883, was collected in 1933. It was recorded from three different informants all from the Slayton source: first from Elmer George and then from his sister Mrs. Myra Daniels and finally from Mrs. Alice (Slayton) Sicily, Newell's daughter.
The British Traditional Ballad in North America (Page 57) by Tristram Potter Coffin - 1963 edition gives the following information:
The song is rare in America, although there is a re-working of the story in The Forget-me-not Songster (Nafis & Cornish, N. Y., c. 1840), p. 247 called The Bloody Brother (see below).
The Bloody Brother was first printed as 'The Leeds Tragedy, or, The Bloody Brother in London circa 1750 (Barry BFSNE Vol. 7) and several reprints may be found from the early 1800s in the Bodelian library. It should be added as an appendix, for now I've included it here.
A version, "Little Sister Mary" collected in NC in the Abrams collection could be a version of Lizie Wan although the text is similar to Edward. In "Little Sister Mary" and "Lucie Wan" the brother kills the sister, however "Little Sister May" give no motive and presents no hint of the incestuous relationship. Since the ballads borrow from each other, it could be classified either way. It's classified both ways in Abrams, first as a version of Lizie Wan, then later as Edward (See text below).
R. Matteson 2012, 2014]
CONTENTS: (Click to open individual versions attached to this page on left hand panel or click on highlighted blue title below)
Appendix: The Bloody Brother- (NY) 1840 Forget-Me-Not-Songster; Originally printed in London circa 1750 as "The Leeds Tragedy, or The Bloody Brother." It is not a version of Lizzie Wan, it has the same theme. (see below also)
1) Fair Lucy- George (Vermont) c. 1883 From Flanders Ancient Ballads, 1966. Flanders A1. Collected in 1933; learned from Newell Slayton circa 1883.
2) Fair Lucy- Griffin (FL) 1877 Morris; From Folksongs of Florida; 1950. Perhaps the best version collected in North America, close to Child A
3) Lizzie Wan (Fair Lucy)- Finlay (KY) 1917 Sharp; From English Folk Songs from the Southern Appalachians 1932 book I. The first version collected in the US. Sharp's generic title, should be titled, "Fair Lucy."
4) Fair Lucy- Alice Slayton Sicily (Vermont) 1933; -- From BFSSNE, 1934; Also Ancient Ballads, 1966; Flanders A2, learned from Newell Slayton as George's version.
5) Lizzie May- Wyatt (KY) 1933 Niles; -- Ballad Book of John Jacob Niles, 1961. An unusual traditional version, surely a rewrite- with Niles it's hard to tell.
6) Little Sister Mary- Hicks (NC) c.1940s Abrams Collection online ; Closely aligned to Edward (Child No. 13)- see below also.
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[From BFSSNE No. 7, 1934.
Phillips Barry: Lizie Wan is a ballad of intra-familial fixation, as were originally Edward (Child 13), The Two Brothers (Child 49), a Danish ballad Moen paa Baalet (Grundtvig, 109, DgF., II, PP. 585, ff.) and perhaps also The Cruel Brother (Child 11). In every instance, the chief characters are siblings: the Danish ballad- in its present form "is homiletical, a story of slandered innocence and martyrdom. Ballads of more recent origin are: English, The Leeds Tragedy or, The Bloody Brother, (London broadside, no imp., c. 1750, Forget-me-not Songster, R. Marsh, New-York, 1847, pp. 243-250) French, (RTP., VI, 393; A Millien, Cirants et Chansons, I, 283, Le frere qui tue sa seur). For an exhaustive study of intra-familial fixation in all forms, in history and tradition, both popular and literary, see O. Rank, Das Inzest-Motiv in Dichtung unil Sage.
Until 1917, when a version of Lizie Wan was recorded by Sharp from Mr. B. J. Finlay, Manchester, Ky. (Sharp-Karpeles, I, 89), the ballad was thought extinct. The Slayton Family version is related to Sharp's, though a letter text; both are related to a version from Cambridgeshire, England (JEFDSS.,I, 53-4). Such relationship raises a pretty question of ballad migration; to be solved perhaps by a genealogist. There is only one known air to the ballad: this air is related to the air to Little Musgrave and, Lady Barnard, (Sharp-Karpeles, I, pp. 161-82; FSSNE, Bulletin 4, p. 12). The form of the Slayton Family set indicates that it is older than the Sharp-Karpeles and Cambridgeshire sets. A Dorian set of the same air has been used for a hymn-tune, "O tell me where the Dove has flown."
P. B.]
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THE BLOODY BROTHER (Appendix)
The Forget Me Not Songster (New York, Nafis & Cornish) 1840.
NEW-YORK: NAFIS &. CORNISH, 278 Pearl Street,
St. Louis, (Mo.) Van Dein & MacDonald;
Philadelphia- - John B. Perry.
THE BLOODY BROTHER
Awake, O muse, let all things hear,
The awful scene of late —
Let heaven blush, earth drop a tear,
On a poor maiden's fate.
A tragedy, unkind — severe —
Void of repentance's sighs —
A fate relentless. In Yorkshire,
A Lady bleeds and dies.
At Leeds, in Yorkshire, we hear,
A noble lord did dwell,
He had a son and daughter fair,
As many know full well.
His lady happened to die,
Each was his choicest care,
His daughter he loved best, they say,
Both dutiful and fair.
Lords and Knights they courted her,
But she would them deny,
Saying, I am resolved,
A maid to live and die.'
Her fame throughout the country rang'd,
So dutiful was she;
Her brother fell in love with her,
Which caused this tragedy.
So was he struck in love with her,
That to his bed he went,
He'd many things but all in vain,
He could have no content.
And for to speak, he was ashamed,
And so he well might be,
For such a thing was never heard,
Nor known by none but me.
One day he to his sister sent,
So up to him she came,
Cries he, 'dear sister 'tis for you,
I'm in this burning flame.'
She hearing him say so, replied,
'Come brother tell to me
What can I get to save your life,
And I will get it free.'
Poor soul, she little thinking,
What was his base intent,
Kept urging him to tell her straight,
What would give him content.
'Alas,' the wicked rogue, he said,
'If I could live with thee,
Then of my pains I should be freed,
And satisfied would be.
'Your beauty has so charmed me,
If you do me deny,
By gazing at thy fair body,
I instantly must die.'
Soon as these words he to her spake,
Replying, she did say,
'You wicked, vile, and cruel wretch,
Forbear these words, I pray.
'O ! brother ! once I loved you well
As any sister sure ;
But now my love's to hatred turned,
I cannot you endure.
'You are the worst of creatures, sure;
And do deserve to burn,
If you was not my brother dear,
You out of doors I'd turn.
'For now you are hateful in God's sight,
And all will you disdain,
How can you so offend the Lord,
In being so profane.'
And then from him she quickly goes;
But yet loved him so well
That of the things which she had heard,
Her father would not tell.
When she was gone, then did he say.
Reveng'd on her I'll be —
For I will have my will of her
The first opportunity.'
She hearing him for to say so,
No rest at all could take,
With grief and wo her tender heart,
Was ready then to break.
Now, he was plotting all the while,
Of her to get his will;
And afterwards, he was resolved,
Her precious blood to spill.
Her father kept a noble park,
One evening she did go ;
And, as her brother was gone out,
She walked to and fro.
Long in the park she had not been,
Before that he came in;
And missing of his sister dear,
He to the park did run.
Saying, 'If she is there I'm safe enough
Revenged on her I'll be,
For when I've had my will of her,
I'll murder her,' said he.
But as he came into the place,
Where this poor creature sat,
With a dissembling smile he said,
'My sister dear, well met.'
When she turned and found him there,
The rose her fuce forsook,
And trembling, to him said,
'I do not like your looks.'
'For you have mischief in your heart,
As I can plainly see,
But your desire you shall not have,
I am resolved of me.'
He said 'sister you have guess'd right,
To lie with you I've come,'
So this base wretch most wickedly,
Into her-arms did run.
But she cried out with might and strength,
'Good Lord! look down I pray,'
She struggled till her strength was gone,
And then she swooned away.
As soon as e'er she did revive,
Said he, 'I'll end the strife,
You shall not tell what I have done,
But here I'll have your life.'
Cries he, 'this knife shall end the smart
And none shall know the truth,
I'll stab thee in thy strumpet's heart,
Therefore make no dispute.'
She hearing him for to say so,
Unto the Lord she cried,
'O had it been thy blessed will,
That I before had died.
'Sure then I never should have felt,
The torments that I go through,
Sure thou canst not mv brother be,
And thus to use me so.'
'I am your flesh and blood,' she said,
'Don't use me so severe,
Since you've defiled me, spare my life,
For Christ's sake brother dear.'
He says, 'these words will not prevail,
But here I'll have your life;
Then in her breast as white as snow,
He put the hateful knife.
The tears did trickle down her cheeks,
Her life of him she crav'd,
'O, don't forget the judgment day!
How can you then be saved?
'No longer will I stay,' he said,
Then gave the fatal blow,
Her precious blood upon her breast,
Did like a fountain flow.
This did not turn his ingrate heart,
Undaunted still was he ;
He straightway went and dug a grave,
And hid her fair body.
And when that he the grave had dug,
And laid her in the ground,
He went and covered up her blood,
For fear it would be found.
Such heinous things cannot be hid,
From God's most precious sight,
For in short space this heinous crime,
Was brought in open light.
Her aged father long did mourn,
For her but could not hear
What had become of his sweet child,
Whom he did love so dear.
This wicked wretch, her brother, he
Did with him seem to mourn;
Her father little thought that he,
The wicked deed had done.
One day he to his son did say,
'We will a hunting go-
Since thy dear sister can't be found;
We'll try to ease our wo.'
Full six months her corpse lay here,
Covered with dust and mould;
And strangely, as you shall hear,
The murder it was told.
The sport, it did but just begin —
Unto this place they come ;
The hounds all of a sudden stopp'd,
They would no farther run.
Now, he then amazed stood —
So did the nobles, all;
And his son turned pale as death,
And from his horse did fall.
This place was opened instantly,
Where they soon here found,
The body of his daughter dear
Laid in this spot of ground.
And when that they had him reviv'd,
And to his senses come,
His father said, 'I fear you have
This cursed action done.'
Then straightway to her corpse he went,
And kissed her corpse of clay,
Saying, 'it is my child of whom
I took such care alway.'
He kissed her corpse till floods of tears
Down from his eyes did flow —
Since her dead body it is found
I mean the truth to know.'
And when they tax'd him with the same,
He could not it deny:
And when he had the story told,
He made them all to cry.
Father! where shall I go!
Or whither shall I run.'
'You shall to prison go,' said he,
'And there receive your doom.
For no compassion you had at all,
Upon your sister dear
The worst of deaths you do deserve,
For being so severe.
'She was to me as dear as you,
And I did love her best.'
'The Lord receive my soul,' said he,
'For here I cannot rest.'
He ordered him for to be seized,
And into prison sent,
Until the assizes here he lies —
Lord send he may repent.
Her father instantly run mad,
And on his bed was tied,
None did expect him for to live
Until his son was tried.
We hope this will a warning be,
To wicked, lustful men ;
For such a thing was never heard;
Since first the world began.
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Identified in the Abrams Folksong collection as Lizie Wan, Variant 1 and also as a version of Edward. Since this is about a son murdering his little sister Mary, it certainly could be classified as a rare version of Lizie Wan.
LITTLE SISTER MARY- Sung by Nora Hicks, 1886-1953 Location: Sugar Grove, Watauga County, North Carolina; Copied by Addie Hicks; Given me by Edith Walker
How come that blood on your shirt sleeves
Oh, tell me, son, I pray
It is the blood of a little gray mare
That ploughed that ground for me.
It is too much for a little gray mare,
Oh, tell me, son, I pray
It is the blood of a little gray hound
That run that deer for me.
How come that blood on your shirt sleeve?
Oh, tell me, son, I pray.
It is the blood of a little gray hound
That ran that deer for me.
How come that blood onyour shirt sleeves?
Oh, tell me, son, I pray.
It is the blood of little Sister Mary
I killed her yesterday.
Oh, what did you kill her own? [1]
Oh, tell me son, I pray.
I killer her own a willow bush
That will never make a tree.
Oh, what will you do when your papa comes
Oh, tell me son, I pray.
I'll sit my foot on younder boat
I'll sail across the sea.
Oh, when are you coming back?
Oh tell me, son, I pray.
I am never coming back until the sea goes drie
And you'll know that never be.
1. own= with