xt7m3775tw02 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7m3775tw02/data/mets.xml McGill, Josephine, 1877-1919. 1917  books b92-127-29187359 English Boosey, : New York ; Toronto : Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Folk songs Kentucky. Folk-songs of the Kentucky mountains  / Josephine McGill. text Folk-songs of the Kentucky mountains  / Josephine McGill. 1917 2002 true xt7m3775tw02 section xt7m3775tw02 



FOLKSNONGS OF THE KENTUCKY MOUNTAINS
          Twenty Traditional Ballads
                     and
            Other English Folk-Songs


            NOTATED FROM THE SINGING OF THE:

       KENTUCKY MOUNTAIN PEOPLE
                     A N.I  
          ARRANGED WITH PIANO ACCOMPANIMENT
                      By
      Ls
     JOSEPHINE WCGILL
               INTRODUCTORY NOTE BY
            H. E. KREHBIEL

               2Price 100 net


            BOO SEY  .
    NEW  YORK - TORONTO      - LONDON.(EN G.)
    9 EAST 17L- ST.  RYRIE BLDG.,YONGE ST.  295 REGENT ST.,W.

              COPYRIGHT MCMXVII BY OOSEVY  CO


 


            AN INTRODUCTORY NOTE


    When, in April, 1916, 1 published in The New York Tribune, the words and
tunes of several English ballads, received from Miss Josephine McGill, as they
had been handed down orally for generations among the mountaineers of Ken-
.ucky, I accompanied the publication with some brief comments on the success
which had of recent years accompanied the efforts to collect these ancient Songs
in the South Atlantic States. An explanation of the phenomenon was found, or
at least sought, in thie circumstance that there has been a larger survival of the
old English and Scottish ballad in the mountainous regions of Kentucky, Ten-
nessee, Virginia, Georgia and the Carolinas, than elsewhere in the country, be-
cause of the isolation in which their inhabitants lived. There can be no doubt,
however, that much of the success of the Southern collectors is due to their ex-
traordinary zeal, stimulated by the fact that romantic elements have attended
their researches, which are absent in eities and more populous rural districts.
Ujrban peoples feel little interest in traditions of any kind. Their lives are too
full of contemporaneous dfistracti!nv, ditrersionr! and erntertainments. Moreover,
he who wants folksongs must go after then, aend his search must be laboriously
and systematically conducted.
    When Professor Child, of Harvard University, made his monumental collec-
tion, and still more monumental comparative study, he was thrown chiefly upon
the manuscripts and printed collections which he could find in Europe. He did
not have such an admirable agency as the present English Folk-Song Society, to
help him, by collecting songs from the mouths of folksong singers in Great Britain;
and for traditional American versions he was thrown wholly upon chance, and
the interest of a few friends. Had he undertaken a lecture-tour of the country,
and appealed to his hearers to make him the repository of their memories, he
would have gleaned a richer harvest. Such, at least, has been my experience.
For some years I have talked to a considerable number of clubs, schools and
popular audiences, between the Atlantic and the Mississippi River, on the subject


 

of "Wandering Ballads." I seldom left a meeting without at least one contribu-
tion to my portfolios.
    The "Journal of American Folk-Lore" has done good work in the folk-song
field for ten years or more; but the contributions have been desultory; and,
though the musical side of the quest has not been neglected altogether, the
record of variant texts has been much larger than the record of melodies. Now
the musical side of the study is receiving the attention of musical experts. The
melodies of a large collection of ballads made by Mrs. John C. Campbell, of
Asheville, N. C., have undergone scrutiny and revision from Mr. Cecil J. Sharp,
an acknowledged English authority, who also collated them with oral tradition.
Miss McGill had been earlier in the field, but since her first fruits were exhibited
by The Tribune, Mr. Howard Brockway and Miss Lorraine Wyman have visited
the district, in Kentucky, which Miss McGill had already partially gleaned.
Through Miss iNlcGill's publication, and others, I make no doubt but that some
of the old songs will find their way into the concert rooms, and thus attain to new
life and a wider currency.
    From Hindman, Kentucky, I hear that an English example, which has been
very fruitful of results, has been followed, and the ballad tunes sung at the Set.
tlement School, which has been headquarters of collectors. Two years ago Pro-
fessor Reed Smith reported in "The Journal of American Folk-Lore," that the
tunes of ballads collected in Georgia were sung in the Mount Berry School, in
that State, and in the Spring of 1916 the Varsity Quartette of the University of
South Carolina, sang five ballads at the meeting of the State Teachers' Associa-
tion. In The Tribune I also directed attention to the unique and agreeable enter-
prise of the Edith Rubel Trio, in playing at its concerts artistic arrangements of
some of the Kentucky Ballads collected by Miss McGill. Plainly, folk-song is
having a real awakening, and interest in it is no longer to be merely scientific
or literary, and confined to the few.
H. E. KREHBIEL.
New York, March 6, 1917.


-->

 



                             PREFACE
    It has been said that a good melody is not for an age-but for all time. Such
a conclusion is inevitable to one who finds in remote sections of the world
melodic survivals -whose ancestry can be traced to far distant lands and climes.

    Shut off in his fastnesses, the Kentucky mountaineer has preserved as a
proud heritage many traditional ballads, and other fine old Scotch and English
folk-songs brought to America by his colonial ancestors.
    From a literary point of view, the most valuable of these survivals are the
ballads which, according to the ancient ballad tradition, are always sung (not
recited) by the mountain balladist. The lament called forth from the mother of
the Ettrick Shepherd on the publication of the Border Minstrelsy: "Ye ha'e
broken the charm now, and they'll never be sung mair," was indeed prophetic;
for it is only in such isolated regions as the Kentucky mountains that one may
still hear "these canticles of love and woe" chanted as in days of old.

    Besides the ballads, however, there are other traditional songs, such as
"The Cuckoo," "As I Walked Out," et cetera, less interesting for their literary
value, but having a vital melodic charm which our age can ill afford to lose.
    The present collection was made during the autumn of 1914, in Knott and
Letcher Counties, Kentucky, in the heart of the mountain region-many miles
from the nearest railroad.
    Sincere thanks are expressed to all who assisted in the making of the col-
lection, which was suggested by Miss May Stone, head of the Settlement School
at Hindman, Knott County, Kentucky.
    For advice about the literary texts particular indebtedness is felt toward
Miss Lucy Furman, (author of Mothering on Perilous) whose long residence in
the mountains makes her opinion one to be highly valued.
    Acknowledgment is made to the following mountain people, from whose
singing the airs were notated:-
    Mrs. Sally Adams, Mrs. Dave Mulling, Mrs. Martha Richie, Mrs. Julie
Moigan, Mrs. Isom Richie, Mr. Will Wooten, Mrs. Tom Witt, Mrs. Betty Jane
Smith, Mr. Wiley Parks, and the children of the Hindman Settlement School.
    To Messrs. Jason Richie, Rob Morgan, and Senator Hillard Smith, who
were frequently consulted, especial thanks are due.
                                                    JOSEPHINE McGILL




 



         DEDICA TION:

   To those in the Kentucky Mountains

      "who take delight in singing,"

            these arrangements

              are dedicated

                   by

" The strange woman who went among them
looking for Song-Ballets ".
As I Walked Out.
Babes in the Woods ..........            ..... ..
Bangum and the Boar  (Sir Rylas. 18).
Barbara Allen  (Barbara Allen's Cruelty. 84) . .. . .
Cherry Tree, The  (The Cherry Tree CaroL 54) .
Cuckoo, The (Two Versions)o.   n  ...........
Forsaken Girl, The . . ... . ..... ..... ...
Golden Willow Tree, The,  (The Sweet Trinity. 286) .
Greenwood Side, The  (The Cruel Mother. 20) .
Gypsie Laddie, The  (200) .
Her Cheek Is Like Some Blooming Red Rose..
John and William  (The Twa Brothers. 49).
Lady Gay  (The Wife of Usher's Well. 79) . .. . ...
Little Sparrow.        ..................
Lord Lovel  (75) .
Lord Randal (12).
Lord Thomas  (Lord Thomas and Fair Annet. 73)
Loving Hannah  . . . .    . . .
Mermaid, The  (289).
Sweet William  (Fair Margaret and Sweet William. 74)
           Page
    ...     66
..... . ... . 104
             79
             40
             60
      .3537
....... . . 51
       ... .97
. ....... . 8 3
             15
             94
             55
             5
....... . . 24
             10
  . ... ... i19
             28
  ........    88
  ..... .....46
.....      71
    Asterisks indicate ballads as distinguished from the other songs in this
volume. The titles and numbers in parentheses are those given in the Cam-
bridge Edition of Professor Child's English and Scottish Popular Ballads.


 

                LADY GAY.


 There was a lady, a lady gay,
 Of children she had three;
 She sent them away to the north countrie
 To learn high gramarye.


 They had been gone but a very little while,
 Scarcelie three weeks to a day;
 When death, cold death came hasting along,
 And stole those babes away.


 "If there is a King in heaven," she said,
 "That wears the brightest crown,
 Play send to me my three little babes
 Tonight or in the morning soon."


 It was just about old Christmas time,
 The nights being cold and clear;
 She looked and saw her three little babes
 Come running home to her.


 She set a table both long and wide,
 Put on it bread and wine;
 "Come eat and drink, my three little babes,
 Come eat and drink of mine."

 "We do not want your bread, mother,
 We do not want your wine;
 For yonder stands our Saviour dear,
 To Him we must resign."

 She fixed a bed in the long back room,
 Spread over it fine sheets,
 And covered it with a cloth of gold,
 That the sounder her babes might sleep.

 Up rose the oldest one in the bed,
"The cock's a-crowing for day;
We're going never to come back again,
Away, and away, and away.

Green grass grows over our heads, mother,
Cold clay is under our feet;
And ev'ry tear that you shed for us
It wets our winding sheet."


 






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               LORD LOVEL.

 Lord Lovel he stood at his castle wall
 Combing his milk-white steed;
 Down came the Lady Nancie Belle
 A-wishing her lover good speed.

"Where are you going, Lord Lovel" she cried,
"Where are you going" cried she;
"I'm going, my dear Lady Nancie Belle,
Strange countries for to see."

"When will you come back, Lord Lovel" she cried,
"When will you come back" cried she;
"In a year or two, or three at most,
I'll return to my Lady Nancie."

He hadn't been gone but a year and a day
Strange countries for to see,
When a languishing thought came over his mind-
It was of the Lady Nancie.

He rode and he rode on his milk-white steed
Until he came to the town;
And there he heard St. Pancras' bells,
And the people all mourning round.

"What is the matter" Lord Lovel, he cried,
"What is the matter" cried he;
"There's a lord's lady dead," the women replied,
'Some call her the Lady Nancie."

He ordered the grave to be opened wide,
The shroud to be turned down;
He kissed, and kissed her clay-cold lips,
Then the tears came trinkling down.

"I'll take a kiss, kind Madam," said he,
"I am sure you can never kiss me;
But I'll vow a vow to great God above
That I'll never kiss lips after thee."

Lady Nancie Belle died like it might be today;
Lord Lovel, like it might be tomorrow;
Lady Nancie Belle died for pure, pure grief;
Lord Lovel, he died for sorrow.

Landy Nancie was laid in St. Pancras' Church,
Lord Lovel was laid in the choir;
And out of her breast there grew a red rose,
And out of his a briar.

They grew, and they grew to the old church top,
Then they could grow no higher;
There they tied in a true lover's knot
For all true lovers to admire.


 



to
Lord Lovel
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THE GYPSIE LADDIE
There came two gypsies from the north,
They were all wet and weary 0;
They sang so neat and so complete,
It charmed the heart of the lady 0.

The squire he came home one night
Inquiring for his lady 0;
The news so quickly lit on him,-
"She's gone with the dark-eyed gypsie 0."

"Go saddle up my milk-white steed,
Go saddle up my browny 0;
And I will ride both night and day
To overtake my honey 0."

He rode east and he rode west,
He rode north and southward too;
There he spied his sweet little miss
A-following the dark-eyed gypsie 0.

She pulled off the garment that she wore,
And laid it down for a head-rest 0;
She lay on the grass and drank of the dew;
And followed the dark-eyed gypsie 0.

"Would you forsake your house and land,
Would you forsake your baby 0;
Would you forsake your own true love,
And follow the gypsie laddie 0"

"What cares I for house and land,
What cares I for money 0;
I'd rather have a kiss from the gypsie's lips
Than all your land and money 0."


 

The Gypsie Laddie
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              LORD RANDAL.

"Where have you been, Randal, it's Randal my son,
Where have you been, Randal, my pretty sweet
       one"
"0 I've been a-courting, mother make my bed soon,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain would lie
       down."

"What did you have for your supper, it's Randal my
       son,
 What did you have for your supper, my pretty
      sweet one"
"Fried ee-ls and fresh butter, mother make my bed
       soon,
 For I'm sick at the heart and I fain would lie
      down."

"What will you leave to your father, it's Randal my
      son,
 What will you leave to your father, my pretty
      sweet one"
"A chest of fine clothing, mother make my bed soon,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain would lie
      down."

"What will you leave to your brother, it's Randal
      my son,
 What will you leave to your brother, my pretty
      sweet one"
"My horse and fine saddle, mother make my bed
      soon,
 For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain would lie
      down."

"What will you leave to your sister, it's Randal my
      son,
 What will you leave to your sister, my pretty
      sweet one"
"My land and fine buildings, mother make my bed
      soon,
 For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain would lie
      down."

"What will you leave to your sweetheart, it's Ran-
      dal my son,
 What will you leave to your sweetheart, my pretty
      sweet one "
"A rope and a gallows, mother make my bed soon,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain would lie
      down."

"What will you leave to your mother, it's Randal
      my son,
What will you leave to your mother, my pretty
      sweet one "
"A dead son to bury, mother make my bed soon,
For I'm sick at the heart, and I fain would lie
      down."


 



19
Lord Randal
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  have you been Ran-dal, it's_ Ran - dal my
2. have for  your sup -per, it's  Ran- dal my
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          LITTLE SPARROW.

Come all you fair and tender ladies,
Take warning how you court young men;
They are like a star in the cloudy morning,
They first appear and then they're gone.

They tell to you some lovely story,
They swear to you their love is true;
Then aware they'll go and court some other,
And that's the love they have for you.

I wish I were some little sparrow,
And I had wings and I could fly;
I would fly away to my false lover,
And while he'd talk I'd sit and cry.

Dut I am not a little sparrow,
I have no wings, nor can I fly;
I will sit down in grief and sorrow,
And pass my trouble by and bye.

I wish I'd known before I courted,
That love had been so hard to gain;
I'd have locked my heart with a key of golden,
And tied it down with a silver pin.

Young men ne'er cast your eyes on beauty,
For it's a thing that will decay;
The prettiest flowers that grow in the garden,
They soon will wither and fade away.


 

Little Sparrow
1 7 Xa


 





25
4h83


 







              LORD THOMAS.

"O mother, 0 mother, come riddle my sport,
Come riddle it all as one;
Must I go marry Fair Ellender,
Or bring the brown girl home"

"The brown girl she has house and lands,
Fair Ellender, she has none;
I warn you on my blessing, Sir Thomas,
Go bring the brown girl home."

"Go saddle up my milk-white steed,
Go saddle him up for me;
I'll go invite fair Ellender,
My wedding for to see."

He rode, he rode till he came to the hall,
He tingled all on the ring;
Nobody so ready as Fair Ellender,
To rise and let him come in.

"What news, what news," fair Ellender cried,
"What news have you brought to me"
"I've come to invite you to my wedding.
Is that good news for thee"

'Bad news, bad news," fair Ellender cried,
"Bad news have you brought to me;
I once did think I would be your bride,
And you my bridegroom would be."

"0 mother, 0 mother, come riddle my sport,
Come riddle it all as one;
Must I go to Lord Thomas's wedding,
Or tarry at home with thee"

"O enemies, enemies you have there,
The brown girl she has none;
I warn you on my blessing, my child,
To tarry this day at home."

"There may be many of my friends, mother,
But many more of my foes;
But if I never return again,
To Lord Thomas's wedding I'll go."

She dressed herself in scarlet red,
Her maids she dressed in green;
And every town that she passed through,
They took her to be some queen.


 







LORD THOMAS.-Continued
She rode, she rode till she came to the hall,
She tingled all on the ring;
Nobody so ready as Lord Thomas himself,
To rise and bid her come in.

He took her by the lily-white hand,
And led her through the hall;
And set her down in a golden chair,
Among the ladies all.

"Is this your bride" fair Ellender cried,
"That looks so wondrous brown
You once could have married as fair a ladie
As ever the sun shone on."

"Despise her not, Fair Ellen," he cried,
"Despise her not to me;
I love the end of your little finger,
Much better than her whole bodie."

The brown girl had a little penknife,
It was both keen and sharp;
Between the long ribs and the short,
She pierced fair Ellender's heart.

"O what is the matter" Lord Thomas, he cried,
"O are you blind" cried she;
"And don't you see my own heart's blood,
Come trickling down my knee"

He caught the brown girl by the hand,
And led her across the hall;
He drew a bright sword, he cut off her head,
And threw it against the wall.

"0 mother, 0 mother, go dig my grave,
Go dig it wide and deep;
And place fair Ellender at my head,
The brown girl at my feet."

He placed the butt against the wall,
The point against his breast;
Saying: "Here's the end of three poor lovers,
God take them all to rest."


 


28
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THE CUCKOO.
A-walking and talking, a-walking goes I,
To meet my true lover, we'll meet by and bye;
For meeting's a pleasure, and parting's a grief,
An inconstant lover is worse than a thief.

A thief will but rob you and take all you have,
An inconstant lover will bring you to the grave;
The grave will consume you, and turn you to dust;
There's not one in a thousand a poor girl can trust.

Come all you pretty fair maids take warning by me,
Never place your affections on a green growing
      tree;
For the leaves they will wither, the roots will decay,
The beauty of a fair one will soon pass away.

Cuckoo is a pretty bird, she sings as she flies,
She brings us good tidings, and tells us no lies;
She sucks all sweet flowers to keep her voice clear,
She never cries "Cuckoo" till spring of the year.


 



35
The Cuckoo (1)