songsfrom my motherLaura StephenSon

Just as the folksongs in these pages are

at once romantic and grotesque, the il-

lustrations offer both childlike joy and

sinister warnings. There are jilted lovers

that will be avenged, outlaws, young girls

tricked by dangerous men. The songs

came over to the Americas from England

and Ireland, and then drifted into the

mountains of Appalachia, where they hid

and took on new lives, new melodies, gar-

bled and perverted verses. Some of the

songs, like the famous “Barbara Allen,”

have hundreds of versions, each with a

slightly different arrangement of verses,

each adding to the tale. So even though

I learned some of these songs from my

mom, when I look at the sheet music I of-

ten find completely different notes from

what I expect, and I know that I have em-

bellished them as well, started to find my

own way of singing them. v

When I was a kid, songs were always something to be learned by ear—in the car from our tapes of folk music, in the bath singing rounds with my mother. So I was surprised at first to find this physical arti-fact of the songs she taught me.

the lily of the west1. When first I came to Louisville

Some pleasure there to find A damsel there from Lexington Was pleasing to my mind Her rosy cheeks, her ruby lips Like arrows pierced my breast And the name she bore was Flora The Lily Of The West

2. I courted lovely Flora Some pleasure there to find She turned unto another manWhich sore distressed my mindShe robbed me of my liberty Deprived me of my rest Still I love my faithless FloraThe Lily Of The West

3. Down in yonder shady grove A man of high degreeConversing with my Flora thereIt seemed so strange to me And the answer that she gave to himIt sure did me oppressI was betrayed by Flora The Lily Of The West

4. I stepped up to my rivalMy dagger in my handI seized him by the collar andI boldly made him standBeing mad to desperation I pierced him in the breastAll for my lovely Flora The Lily Of The West

5. I had to stand my trialI had to make my pleaThey placed me in the criminal boxAnd then commenced on meAlthough she swore my life awayDeprived me of my restAnd I still love my faithless FloraThe Lily Of The West

Railroad Bill Railroad Bill, Railroad Bill, he doesn’t work and he never willAnd it’s ride, ride, ride, ride

Buy me a chicken, send me a wing. It’ll look like I’ve been working, but I ain’t done a thingAnd it’s ride, ride, ride, ride

Railroad Bill was a mighty mean manHe shot the midnight lantern out of the breakman’s handAnd it’s ride, ride, ride, ride

I’m going up a mountain, I’m going out westGot a forty four pistol sticking out my vestAnd it’s ride, ride, ride, ride

Railroad Bill, he took my wifeHe said if I don’t like it, he would take my lifeAnd it’s ride, ride, ride, ride

Railroad Bill, Railroad Bill,Rollin’ up a cigar with a ten dollar billAnd it’s ride, ride, ride, ride

I’m gonna find me a pistol as long as my armI’ll kill everybody who’s ever done me harm And it’s ride, ride, ride, ride

40

Or BarBry allen or BarBary allen

In SCarleT TOWn WHere I WaS BOrn

There was a fair maid dwelling

Made every youth cry well-a-day

Her name was Barbry Allen

T’WaS In THe Merry MOnTH OF May

When all gay flowers were a bloomin’,

Sweet William on his death-bed lay

For the love of Barbara Allen.

He SenT HIS SerVanT TO THe TOWn

To the place where she was dwelling

Said, “You must come to my master’s house,

If your name be Barbara Allen.”

SO SlOWly, SlOWly SHe GeTS UP,

And to his bedside going

She drew the curtains to one side

And says, “Young man, you’re dying.”

“I KnOW, I’M SICK anD Very lOW,

And sorrow dwells within me

No better, no better I never will be.

Til I have Barbara Allen.”

“DOn’T yOU reMeMBer laST SaTUrDay nIGHT

When I was at the tavern,

You gave your drinks to the ladies there

But you slighted Barbara Allen?”

41

He reaCHeD UP HIS Pale WHITe HanDS

Intending for to touch her

She turned away from his bedside

And says, “Young man I won’t have you.”

He TUrneD HIS CHeeK InTO THe Wall

And bursted out a crying

“What I do to thee I do to all

And I do to Barbara Allen.”

SHe HaD nOT MOre THan reaCHeD THe TOWn

She heard the death bells ringing

And as they rolled they seemed to say,

“Hard-hearted Barbara Allen.”

“OH MOTHer, OH MOTHer GO MaKe My BeD

Make it both long and narrow

Sweet William died for me today

I’ll die for him tomorrow.”

SWeeT WIllIaM WaS BUrIeD In THe OlD CHUrCH yarD

And Barbara there anigh him,

And out of his grave grew a red, red rose,

And out of hers, a briar.

THey GreW anD GreW TO THe OlD CHUrCHyarD,

Where they couldn’t grow no higher,

And there they tied in a true love’s knot.

The rose wrapped around the briar.