Wilson; Collected by W. H. Babcock from "new nurse girl, white, and from up the river" ; Virginia 1889
From the article: The London Ballads
by W. H. Babcock
The Folk-Lore Journal, Vol. 7, No. 1 (1889), pp. 27-35
THE LONDON BALLADS
THEY come fromt hat prosperous but out-of-the-way county of Virginia, in the corner between the Potomac and the Blue Ridge. Plain people of the conservative overseer and small - tenant class have transmitted them from mother to daughter, through the years and lives that have passed since the first settlement, as in England before it. Of course they do not think of writing them down, and know nothing of the books in which the relics of balladry are treasured.
One evening as we approached, in the dusk, our home near Washington, a ballad, then heard for the first time, came chanted to us out of the open windows. The new nurse girl, white, and from up the river, was singing the smaller children to sleep. When the song of many words ended, another was taken up, and after it another. Plainly the services of the collector were called for, and most members of the family enlisted, as opportunity offered. Unfortunately the pace of the music kept ahead of the reporters; and when she undertook to recite the lines deliberately, something was sure to be omitted or confused. Memory depended in part on the swing and excitement of her habitual mode of utterance. But a fair approach to completeness, in some cases, was made by repetition and comparison; and the results in full were read to the young woman's mother, who made some notable additions, and declared the ballads to be substantially correct. She could not explain anything which is not obvious, nor, indeed, tell us anything of them but what I have said in the beginning.
"Wilson" is, perhaps, the most important of the series: a near relative of "Lady Isabel and the Elf Knight," whatever names may seem to say. That cycle, so carefully studied and preserved by Professor Childs, cannot afford to leave this stray member wandering unrecorded over Virginia foot hills. It lives in the air and the ear alone, as indeed it always has from that far time when some crude singer first gave it to our ancestry. With all its imperfections, we ought to be glad to make its acquaintance in type, for we shall never greet an older friend among living things.
WILSON- Collected by W. H. Babcock from "new nurse girl, white, and from up the river" ; Virginia 1889
Wilson, sitting in his room one day,
With his true love on his knee,
Just as happy as happy could be, be, be,
Just as happy as happy could be.
"Do you want for fee? " said she,
" Or do you want for gold?
Or do you want a handsome ladye,
More handsomer than me?"
"I do want for fee," said he,
" And I do want for gold;
But I don't want a handsomer ladye,
More handsomer than thee."
"Go get some of your father's fee,
And some of your father's gold,
And two of the finest horses he has,
And married we will be, be, be,
And married we will be."
She mounted on the milk-white steed,
And he the iron grey;
And when they got to the broad waterside,
It was six hours and a-half till day.
"Get down, get down, my pretty fair maid,
Get down, get down!" said he;
"For its nine of the king's daughters I've drowned here,
And the tenth one you shall be, be, be,
And the tenth one you shall be."
"Take off, take off that costly silk,
For it is a costly thing,
It cost your father too much bright gold
To drown your fair body in, in, in,
To drown your fair body in."
"In stooping down to cut the cords round,
Sing,' Turn your back on me;' "
And with all the strength this lady had
She pushed him right into the sea, sea, sea,
She pushed him right into the sea.
"Help me out, my pretty fair miss,
O help me out," said he;
And we'll go down to the Catholic church,
And married we will be, be, be,
And married we will be."
"Lie there, lie there, you false-hearted man,
Lie there, lie there!" said she,
" For its nine of the king's daughters you've drowned here,
But the tenth one's drowned thee, thee, thee,
But the tenth one's drowned thee."
She mounted on the milk-white steed,
And led the iron grey;
And when she got to her own father's house,
It was three hours and a-half till day, day, day,
It was three hours and a-half till day.
While she was walking in the room,
Which caused the parrot to wake,
Said he, " What's the matter, my pretty fair miss,
That you're up so long before day, day, day,
That you're up so long before day?"
"Hush up! hush up! my pretty little parrot,
Don't tell no tales on me;
Your cage shall be lined with sweet may gold,
And the doors of ivorie."
While they were talking all of this,
Which caused the old man to wake,
Said, "What's the matter, my pretty little parrot,
That you chatter so long before day, day, day,
That you chatter so long before day?"
"The cat she sprung against my cage,
And surely frightened me,
And I called for the pretty fair miss
To drive the cat away, way, way,
To drive the'cat away."