After Bobby passed, his good friend Luke Hoilman sent me several documents from Bobby's Google drive. I know Bobby wanted to publish something about Maw Maw (Mae Phillips), and maybe we can start here on my website. Overtime I'll be adding Maw Maw's recordings, some recordings by Bobby about her, and lyrics from Bobby's Collections. We remember you too, Bobby.
It should be noted that I have uploaded these notes "as is." I don't know that it would be appropriate for me to edit them, but you'll find discrepancies here and there. You'll also notice that he made more than one attempt at writing this a piece on Mae Phillips. Sometimes Bobby seems to use the term Maw maw for "grandmother" in referring to other people than Mae Phillips. Mae was Bobby's Uncle's wife's mother, but he just called her what everyone else over in Cosby called her: "Maw Maw."
--Wm.
It should be noted that I have uploaded these notes "as is." I don't know that it would be appropriate for me to edit them, but you'll find discrepancies here and there. You'll also notice that he made more than one attempt at writing this a piece on Mae Phillips. Sometimes Bobby seems to use the term Maw maw for "grandmother" in referring to other people than Mae Phillips. Mae was Bobby's Uncle's wife's mother, but he just called her what everyone else over in Cosby called her: "Maw Maw."
--Wm.
The Love Songs
Maw Maw Mae Phillips was a special person in my life; there have been a few of them, but Maw Maw always shines among the brightest in my heart.
When I was three years old my daddy took mama and I to Tennessee where he was born and raised. We spent the first night at Newport, the county seat of Cocke County. I always thought it was so funny that whenever a relative died the obituary in the North Carolina paper would never spell Cocke correctly. It would usually be Clark County. People said the word cock all the time , but you wouldn’t find it spelt right in the newspapers.
Anyway, our forst night was spent at the home of my uncle Goldman McMillon. His nickname was “Tater” back then, an appellation received as a boy at home one day when, during the preparation of supper, he kept crying, “I want a tater, mommy!” Years later, after his daughters, Janette and Judy were grown, the name “Popsie” came into being, but I usually called him Goldman, or “Tater.” I remember with joy his wife, my aunt Carrie (pronounced as if saying the word “Car”, then adding “e” to it). She had pretty blond hair, an ever smiling face, and always found something to laugh about. When we were at the supper table I was a bit finicky with my food and Carrie said, “You better eat your food so you can grow.” I stuck out my belly and said, “I’m big enough, now, ain’t I?” to which she just cackled. Judy and I snuck outside in the yard to play and commenced spraying me with the water hose. Gentleman like, I stood there and took it, not having any better sense. About then, mama and Carrie came out and caught us and Carrie always remembered me letting Judy squirt me with water. In all the years of our lives there was never a cross word passed between us.
The next morning, after breakfast, mama, daddy, Janette, and I piled into the car and headed up on Cosby, the area where daddy spent the first fifteen years of his life. It was a pretty, Spring day, and the weather was warm for that time of year. The clouds were building up and it wasn’t too long till the thunderheads began rolling in. The big Smoky Mountains were all around and in the distance I could see the White Rock standing over the lower ridges and hollers. I would be grown before I found out the White Rock’s actual name is Mt. Cammerer. I don’t know who gave it such a name, but I never heard it called that by my family or the folks who live over there.
We went first to daddy’s cousin’s house; Ethel Whitlock’s. Ethel was married to Gibb Whitlock. Gib and his boys were bear hunter’s and although their home was just across the road from the boundary of The Great Smoky Mountain National Park, they never let that stop them from a good bear hunt. Gib also had been in trouble with the Park Service for doing so. I think they fined him, so, as payback Gib politely set the Park on fire. I believe he built some time for that one. Anyway, they always said he hated the Park like pizen over all the trouble. Gib’s house wasn’t much to speak of. I used to hear it said that if you needed a place to stay you were always welcome there, though you might have to sleep with the dogs.
I guess Ethel wasn’t the greatest housekeeper in the world. When we got there that day she was cooking something on the cook stove, either sallet (cooked mustard greens) or ramps. I still recollect the smell was awfully strong. Ethel was a sister to Festus McMillon. My grandfather, Henry Clay McMillon, took them in to raise when his half sister, Mary, their mother, died in the Spanish influenza epidemic that struck this country at the end of World War One. Mary was my great grandmother, Rhoda Huskey McMillon’s daughter by her first marriage to Jimmie Sutton. When Jimmie died, Granny Rhodie later married my great grandfather, Anderson McMillon, called Anse, or, “Coon“ Anse for his coon hunting.. He was a recent widow-man and was seventy years old when she married him and she was thirty. He had a number of children by his first wife, Martha Raines. The deal was that she could have the home place after Anse died as long as she never remarried, which she never did. Mary was young at the time and lived there with them. But she must have been precocious, because she later got pregnant by her mother’s sister’s husband, a Johnson, by whom she had Ethel, and then later, she had Festus by the Johnson man’s son, Joe “Dick” Johnson. I think the “Dick” part of his name was an allusion to a part of his anatomy.
Well, after leaving Ethel and Gib’s we headed down Groundhog (Creek) to Aunt Carrie’s Mother’s home. On the way we passed by Garver’s Chapel Baptist Church where the old McMillon Schoolhouse once stood. On the left of the road (all dirt) was the old house of Sarie Pete’s. Sarah McMillan was the daughter of one of Grandpa McMillon’s half brother’s. She married Pete Walker and another Sarah married Sam Walker, So, to distinguish which Sarah was being spoken of, one was Sarie Pete and the other was Sarie Sam. Sarah became a drunkard later in life and would have parties at her house. Although she was Grandpa’s niece, Sarah was about twenty years older than him. Grandpa had half brothers and sisters old enough to have been his grandparents. Anyway, one night in 1930 Sarie had a drunken party at her house and Grandpa was there. He got so drunk that he passed out by the fireplace and rolled his leg into the fire. It about burnt his leg up. They thought it would kill him. I don’t know just what the doctor, or doctors, did; I guess he was taken to Newport to the hospital. He pulled through, although his leg always gave him trouble after that. While he was recovering he tried to get Goldman to go to Sarie Pete’s to get him some liquor, but Goldman refused. Maw Maw was pregnant with my daddy at the time and they say she was so nervous then that she marked him because he always had some nerve problems. They said she wouldn’t let Grandpa discipline daddy as severely as he did the others because of it. Grandpa survived and during his recovery he must have seen the light from Heaven, for it was then he quit drinking and gave his heart to God and soon became a Primitive Baptist elder, following in his father’s footsteps.
We passed by the spot where the old McMillan Church had once stood. My great uncle Noah McMillan had deeded the land over in 1898 for a place to build the meeting house. I think it was called McMillan’s Chapel, or Bethany, I don’t remember which. The name McMillan, seemingly easy to spell has gone through a number of variations over the years. In 1850 the census taker spelled my Grandpa Anse’s name McMullen; in Virginia there was Muckmillan; sometimes McMillian, and I don’t know how many other variations, but to me the oddest is how it came to be spelled in my family. My great Grandfather and some of his children spelt it ending in “an”, while some of his offspring, as did my grandfather Henry, began spelling it with an “on”which is how I spell it. Another quare thing is that on grandfather Anses tombstone is the name “Rev. Anderson McMillan”. Now, the Old Baptists never refer to themselves as Reverend; it is always “Elder”. But as there isn’t anyone alive who knows who made the inscription or why they called him Reverend, I guess that’ll always be an unanswered question.
So, we finally made it down to Maw Maw Phillips’ house. Walter, her husband, was gone to work that day, so it was Maw Maw, her mother, Aunt Becky Jenkins, and some of her grandchildren there. I recall it was a pretty house with a fenced in yard with flowers a blooming around it. Across the dirt road was an out building, and as usual in the mountains there were hounds running around. Down below the shed ran the creek. That’s one thing I always recollect the clearest about my childhood in the hills. You could most always hear water running from the innumerable branches, creeks, and rivers that flow unceasingly through the Appalachians.
Maw Maw was a short round faced woman with always a smile, and like her daughter Carrie, a laugh to brighten the day. She played and kept us kids entertained with songs, such as :
“Saddled up my old grey mare,
Saddled up my old grey mare,
Saddled up my old grey mare,
And I led her off up to the fair.”
I didn’t know back then the important role that Maw Maw would play in my life or of all the old “love songs” she would someday sing for me and the many tales of life in the Smokies she would tell me about. I lived in three different and wonderful worlds; the world of mama’s family, daddy’s family, and the people and places around Caldwell County, NC where we lived. I can still hear the rumbles of thunder as we drove away that day to visit other relatives. As we crossed the Bluffton bridge I was scared half to death because it looked like we were about to plunge into the Pigeon River with its black waters below. But we made it across and I went on with my life’s journey which would soon fill up with the sounds of mountain folks singing songs of lords and ladies and things that hearkened back to a time when our “back parents” came over the big pond to enter into the coves and shady green woods and mountains far away from where they came from.
When I was three years old my daddy took mama and I to Tennessee where he was born and raised. We spent the first night at Newport, the county seat of Cocke County. I always thought it was so funny that whenever a relative died the obituary in the North Carolina paper would never spell Cocke correctly. It would usually be Clark County. People said the word cock all the time , but you wouldn’t find it spelt right in the newspapers.
Anyway, our forst night was spent at the home of my uncle Goldman McMillon. His nickname was “Tater” back then, an appellation received as a boy at home one day when, during the preparation of supper, he kept crying, “I want a tater, mommy!” Years later, after his daughters, Janette and Judy were grown, the name “Popsie” came into being, but I usually called him Goldman, or “Tater.” I remember with joy his wife, my aunt Carrie (pronounced as if saying the word “Car”, then adding “e” to it). She had pretty blond hair, an ever smiling face, and always found something to laugh about. When we were at the supper table I was a bit finicky with my food and Carrie said, “You better eat your food so you can grow.” I stuck out my belly and said, “I’m big enough, now, ain’t I?” to which she just cackled. Judy and I snuck outside in the yard to play and commenced spraying me with the water hose. Gentleman like, I stood there and took it, not having any better sense. About then, mama and Carrie came out and caught us and Carrie always remembered me letting Judy squirt me with water. In all the years of our lives there was never a cross word passed between us.
The next morning, after breakfast, mama, daddy, Janette, and I piled into the car and headed up on Cosby, the area where daddy spent the first fifteen years of his life. It was a pretty, Spring day, and the weather was warm for that time of year. The clouds were building up and it wasn’t too long till the thunderheads began rolling in. The big Smoky Mountains were all around and in the distance I could see the White Rock standing over the lower ridges and hollers. I would be grown before I found out the White Rock’s actual name is Mt. Cammerer. I don’t know who gave it such a name, but I never heard it called that by my family or the folks who live over there.
We went first to daddy’s cousin’s house; Ethel Whitlock’s. Ethel was married to Gibb Whitlock. Gib and his boys were bear hunter’s and although their home was just across the road from the boundary of The Great Smoky Mountain National Park, they never let that stop them from a good bear hunt. Gib also had been in trouble with the Park Service for doing so. I think they fined him, so, as payback Gib politely set the Park on fire. I believe he built some time for that one. Anyway, they always said he hated the Park like pizen over all the trouble. Gib’s house wasn’t much to speak of. I used to hear it said that if you needed a place to stay you were always welcome there, though you might have to sleep with the dogs.
I guess Ethel wasn’t the greatest housekeeper in the world. When we got there that day she was cooking something on the cook stove, either sallet (cooked mustard greens) or ramps. I still recollect the smell was awfully strong. Ethel was a sister to Festus McMillon. My grandfather, Henry Clay McMillon, took them in to raise when his half sister, Mary, their mother, died in the Spanish influenza epidemic that struck this country at the end of World War One. Mary was my great grandmother, Rhoda Huskey McMillon’s daughter by her first marriage to Jimmie Sutton. When Jimmie died, Granny Rhodie later married my great grandfather, Anderson McMillon, called Anse, or, “Coon“ Anse for his coon hunting.. He was a recent widow-man and was seventy years old when she married him and she was thirty. He had a number of children by his first wife, Martha Raines. The deal was that she could have the home place after Anse died as long as she never remarried, which she never did. Mary was young at the time and lived there with them. But she must have been precocious, because she later got pregnant by her mother’s sister’s husband, a Johnson, by whom she had Ethel, and then later, she had Festus by the Johnson man’s son, Joe “Dick” Johnson. I think the “Dick” part of his name was an allusion to a part of his anatomy.
Well, after leaving Ethel and Gib’s we headed down Groundhog (Creek) to Aunt Carrie’s Mother’s home. On the way we passed by Garver’s Chapel Baptist Church where the old McMillon Schoolhouse once stood. On the left of the road (all dirt) was the old house of Sarie Pete’s. Sarah McMillan was the daughter of one of Grandpa McMillon’s half brother’s. She married Pete Walker and another Sarah married Sam Walker, So, to distinguish which Sarah was being spoken of, one was Sarie Pete and the other was Sarie Sam. Sarah became a drunkard later in life and would have parties at her house. Although she was Grandpa’s niece, Sarah was about twenty years older than him. Grandpa had half brothers and sisters old enough to have been his grandparents. Anyway, one night in 1930 Sarie had a drunken party at her house and Grandpa was there. He got so drunk that he passed out by the fireplace and rolled his leg into the fire. It about burnt his leg up. They thought it would kill him. I don’t know just what the doctor, or doctors, did; I guess he was taken to Newport to the hospital. He pulled through, although his leg always gave him trouble after that. While he was recovering he tried to get Goldman to go to Sarie Pete’s to get him some liquor, but Goldman refused. Maw Maw was pregnant with my daddy at the time and they say she was so nervous then that she marked him because he always had some nerve problems. They said she wouldn’t let Grandpa discipline daddy as severely as he did the others because of it. Grandpa survived and during his recovery he must have seen the light from Heaven, for it was then he quit drinking and gave his heart to God and soon became a Primitive Baptist elder, following in his father’s footsteps.
We passed by the spot where the old McMillan Church had once stood. My great uncle Noah McMillan had deeded the land over in 1898 for a place to build the meeting house. I think it was called McMillan’s Chapel, or Bethany, I don’t remember which. The name McMillan, seemingly easy to spell has gone through a number of variations over the years. In 1850 the census taker spelled my Grandpa Anse’s name McMullen; in Virginia there was Muckmillan; sometimes McMillian, and I don’t know how many other variations, but to me the oddest is how it came to be spelled in my family. My great Grandfather and some of his children spelt it ending in “an”, while some of his offspring, as did my grandfather Henry, began spelling it with an “on”which is how I spell it. Another quare thing is that on grandfather Anses tombstone is the name “Rev. Anderson McMillan”. Now, the Old Baptists never refer to themselves as Reverend; it is always “Elder”. But as there isn’t anyone alive who knows who made the inscription or why they called him Reverend, I guess that’ll always be an unanswered question.
So, we finally made it down to Maw Maw Phillips’ house. Walter, her husband, was gone to work that day, so it was Maw Maw, her mother, Aunt Becky Jenkins, and some of her grandchildren there. I recall it was a pretty house with a fenced in yard with flowers a blooming around it. Across the dirt road was an out building, and as usual in the mountains there were hounds running around. Down below the shed ran the creek. That’s one thing I always recollect the clearest about my childhood in the hills. You could most always hear water running from the innumerable branches, creeks, and rivers that flow unceasingly through the Appalachians.
Maw Maw was a short round faced woman with always a smile, and like her daughter Carrie, a laugh to brighten the day. She played and kept us kids entertained with songs, such as :
“Saddled up my old grey mare,
Saddled up my old grey mare,
Saddled up my old grey mare,
And I led her off up to the fair.”
I didn’t know back then the important role that Maw Maw would play in my life or of all the old “love songs” she would someday sing for me and the many tales of life in the Smokies she would tell me about. I lived in three different and wonderful worlds; the world of mama’s family, daddy’s family, and the people and places around Caldwell County, NC where we lived. I can still hear the rumbles of thunder as we drove away that day to visit other relatives. As we crossed the Bluffton bridge I was scared half to death because it looked like we were about to plunge into the Pigeon River with its black waters below. But we made it across and I went on with my life’s journey which would soon fill up with the sounds of mountain folks singing songs of lords and ladies and things that hearkened back to a time when our “back parents” came over the big pond to enter into the coves and shady green woods and mountains far away from where they came from.
Maw Maw's Story
Aunt Becky Jenkins lived a full long life mostly in the Cosby/McMillon Settlement of Cocke County, Tennessee. She came just a few years after the end of the Civil War and left during America’s struggle in Vietnam. Most of what is now thought of as the golden age of the Appalachian Mountain era passed in Aunt Becky’s lifetime. Most of the hardships and struggles she endured have long been forgotten in the mists of time, but her legacy lives on through the many descendants she left that live on today. Her life was filled with many many days of cooking, washing clothes, taking care of children, many not her own, pea thrashings, weaving-- all the many things that made a lifetime for women raised in the Smoky Mountains and other areas. Aunt Becky, or Maw, as she was known to her children and grandchildren, was born Rebecca Mae Shults on August 22, 1868 near the Sevier/Cocke County line to John W. Shults and his wife, Margaret C. Wheat Shults. The Shults family was formerly Pennsylvania German going back to Dr. Martin Shultz of York County, Pennsylvania who came south through Virginia and North Carolina before settling in Upper East Tennessee. He was one of the Over the Mountain Men fighting at the battle of Kings Mountain toward the end of the Revolutionary War. Soon assimilating into the culture of Appalachia, his descendants, or a great portion of them, lived in the Sevier County region and the area around Upper Cosby in Cocke County.
Many people think that the mountain folks were an isolated, ignorant crowd of humanity, but this idea couldn’t be further from the truth. They were a diverse and multi-featured crowd and they did move around a lot. Some did, indeed, settle in and lived out their lives in the coves and hollers, but most, should nature be kind had numerous offspring that either settled down nearby to continue in the ways of the hills, but others often moved away seeking either employment or new lives independent of their kinfolk at home. In the years following the dreadful war between the “Democrats and Republicans” school systems broke down for a while. But soon the “little red schoolhouses” appeared and many took up books for three or four months out of the year and at least learned to read and write, whether the practice would be carried on much later or not. So, it was common in families of twelve plus for some to get a rudimentary education while others chose to stay at home and work on the subsistence farms where they lived. But the sub-culture in which they dwelt followed them all throughout their lives. In the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee as in other parts of Appalachia (and the American South) the many immigrants that coalesced into a seemingly homogenous culture retained much of their past while learning to exist in the grueling conditions of the communities they found themselves in. Grannies and mothers would sometimes sit their children down before them and tell them tales of their ancestors and how they came to be where they were. Wonder tales, bear tales, booger tales, witch tales, haint tales, Indian tales would be passed along from generation to generation. And, of course, these would be passed from child to child amid their work and play, and all through their lives. There was usually company at most homes who would come and stay for days at a time who would help with the work or sit at leisure and keep information, gossip and other conversation going. And singing was often a goodly part of the activity. It seems that most everybody either sang or knew songs. If they couldn’t carry a tune in a sack they generally knew at least some part of a tune or a snatch of the words. Those people didn’t often have book learning, but they had memory and those memories kept them alive. Life itself was a haphazard thing, so they relied on customs that had been passed onto them to stay alive. Today we would call them superstitions, but to the mountain folk they were guidelines by which a person might survive another day. Soon after a baby was born the mother or granny would turn the baby around upside down to keep it from getting “liver growed” thus saving it from many health problems. If you started on a journey (usually walking) it was considered bad luck to turn around and go back unless you mark a cross in your track and spit on it. If the cow suddenly began to go dry the owner could go to a local “conjure” doctor (witch doctor) to learn what to do to cure it. It had been witched.
Although dialects in the Appalachian Mountains were much alike, there were many variations from community to community. In the Cosby section it was common for the word far to be pronounced for whereas in many other places it would be pronounced fer. Wash would be spoken as worsh although just over in Carolina folks would say warsh. To have a torn down time meant a really good time. The same would hold true for the phrase: “They had the awfullest time ever was”. Someone who was said to be clever meant they were a good host, they would make you feel at home. It had the implication that one was smart (a good worker). A vest was a waist or weskit (waistcoat). If a person was mending they were putting on weight. To see and to sigh was a corruption used in relating a conversation between two people to a third party, meaning says he and says I. There might be pronounced either thair or thar. And many other usages which made the mountain dialect both colorful and wonderful to hear.
The songs people sang were generally known as love songs unless they were written down, when they were called “ballits'' or “song ballits”. The only other term to describe the music of the land, that I know of, was “meeting house” songs the word for the singing of himes (hymns) and gospel songs which were learned at religious services, camp meetings as well as from social gatherings. But love songs and meeting house songs were the legacy that Aunt Becky Jenkins' daughter, Mae, gave to me which I have treasured all throughout my life
Many people think that the mountain folks were an isolated, ignorant crowd of humanity, but this idea couldn’t be further from the truth. They were a diverse and multi-featured crowd and they did move around a lot. Some did, indeed, settle in and lived out their lives in the coves and hollers, but most, should nature be kind had numerous offspring that either settled down nearby to continue in the ways of the hills, but others often moved away seeking either employment or new lives independent of their kinfolk at home. In the years following the dreadful war between the “Democrats and Republicans” school systems broke down for a while. But soon the “little red schoolhouses” appeared and many took up books for three or four months out of the year and at least learned to read and write, whether the practice would be carried on much later or not. So, it was common in families of twelve plus for some to get a rudimentary education while others chose to stay at home and work on the subsistence farms where they lived. But the sub-culture in which they dwelt followed them all throughout their lives. In the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee as in other parts of Appalachia (and the American South) the many immigrants that coalesced into a seemingly homogenous culture retained much of their past while learning to exist in the grueling conditions of the communities they found themselves in. Grannies and mothers would sometimes sit their children down before them and tell them tales of their ancestors and how they came to be where they were. Wonder tales, bear tales, booger tales, witch tales, haint tales, Indian tales would be passed along from generation to generation. And, of course, these would be passed from child to child amid their work and play, and all through their lives. There was usually company at most homes who would come and stay for days at a time who would help with the work or sit at leisure and keep information, gossip and other conversation going. And singing was often a goodly part of the activity. It seems that most everybody either sang or knew songs. If they couldn’t carry a tune in a sack they generally knew at least some part of a tune or a snatch of the words. Those people didn’t often have book learning, but they had memory and those memories kept them alive. Life itself was a haphazard thing, so they relied on customs that had been passed onto them to stay alive. Today we would call them superstitions, but to the mountain folk they were guidelines by which a person might survive another day. Soon after a baby was born the mother or granny would turn the baby around upside down to keep it from getting “liver growed” thus saving it from many health problems. If you started on a journey (usually walking) it was considered bad luck to turn around and go back unless you mark a cross in your track and spit on it. If the cow suddenly began to go dry the owner could go to a local “conjure” doctor (witch doctor) to learn what to do to cure it. It had been witched.
Although dialects in the Appalachian Mountains were much alike, there were many variations from community to community. In the Cosby section it was common for the word far to be pronounced for whereas in many other places it would be pronounced fer. Wash would be spoken as worsh although just over in Carolina folks would say warsh. To have a torn down time meant a really good time. The same would hold true for the phrase: “They had the awfullest time ever was”. Someone who was said to be clever meant they were a good host, they would make you feel at home. It had the implication that one was smart (a good worker). A vest was a waist or weskit (waistcoat). If a person was mending they were putting on weight. To see and to sigh was a corruption used in relating a conversation between two people to a third party, meaning says he and says I. There might be pronounced either thair or thar. And many other usages which made the mountain dialect both colorful and wonderful to hear.
The songs people sang were generally known as love songs unless they were written down, when they were called “ballits'' or “song ballits”. The only other term to describe the music of the land, that I know of, was “meeting house” songs the word for the singing of himes (hymns) and gospel songs which were learned at religious services, camp meetings as well as from social gatherings. But love songs and meeting house songs were the legacy that Aunt Becky Jenkins' daughter, Mae, gave to me which I have treasured all throughout my life
The Love Songs of MawMaw Phillips
When the Last Trumpet Shall Sound
Fathers will cry for the rocks and mountains,
Fathers will cry for the rocks and mountains.
Fathers will cry for the rocks and mountains
When the last trumpet shall sound.
Try and hide from the face of Jesus,
Try and hide from the face of Jesus.
Try and hide from the face of Jesus
When the last trumpet shall sound.
Mothers will cry for the rocks and mountains,
Mothers will cry for the rocks and mountains.
Mothers will cry for the rocks and mountains
When the last trumpet shall sound.
Try and hide from the face of Jesus,
Try and hide from the face of Jesus.
Try and hide from the face of Jesus
When the last trumpet shall sound.
Brothers ……
Try and hide from the face of Jesus,
Try and hide from the face of Jesus.
Try and hide from the face of Jesus
When the last trumpet shall sound.
Sisters ……
Sinners will cry for the rocks and mountains,
Sinners will cry for the rocks and mountains.
Sinners will cry for the rocks and mountains
When the last trumpet shall sound.
I Gave My Love A Cherry
I gave my love a cherry that had no stone,
I gave my love a chicken that had no bone,
I gave my love a ring that had no end,
I gave my love a baby with no crying.
How can there be a cherry that has no stone?
How can there be a chicken that had no bone?
How can there be a ring that has no end?
How can there be a baby with no crying?
A cherry when it’s blooming, it has no stone,
A chicken when it’s pipping, it has no bone,
A ring when it’s rolling it has no end,
A baby when it’s sleeping has no crying.
Black Jack David
Black Jack David come a riding through the woods,
A singing so loud and lovely.
He wrecked the heart of a green, green woods
And he charmed the heart of a lady,
And he charmed the heart of a lady.
“How old are you my pretty fair miss?
How old are you my honey?”
She answered him with a tee, hee, hee,
“I’ll be sixteen next Sunday,
I’ll be sixteen next Sunday.”
“Won’t you go with me my pretty fair miss?
Won’t you go with me my honey?
I’ll take you where the grass grows green,
And you never shall want for money,
And you never shall want for money.”
“Won’t you forsaken your house and home,
And go along with me?
I’ll take you where the grass grows green
And you can have liberty,
And you can have liberty.”
“It’s I’ll forsaken my house and home,
It’s I’ll forsaken my baby,
It’s I’ll forsaken my husband true
And gone with a Black Jack David,
And gone with a Black Jack David.”
She pulled off her high heeled shoes,
All made of Spanish leather,
She put on her low heeled boots
And they both rode off together,
And they both rode off together.
Late that night when the high lord came home
Inquiring of his lady,
The servants said on every hand
“She’s gone with a Black Jack David,
She’s gone with a Black Jack David.”
“Go catch me out my old grey mare,
The dapple’s not so speedy,
I’ll ride to the east, I’ll ride to the west
Till I overtake my lady,
Till I overtake my lady.”
He rode to the east, he rode to the west,
He rode where the sea’s run muddy;
The tears come a streaming down his cheeks
For there he spied his honey,
For there he spied his honey.
“Have you forsaken your house and home?
Have you forsaken your baby?
Have you forsaken your husband true
And gone with a Black Jack David,
And gone with a Black Jack David?”
“It’s I forsaken my house and home,
It’s I forsaken my baby,
It’s I forsaken my husband true
And gone with a Black Jack David,
And gone with a Black Jack David.”
“Last night I slept on a feather bed
Between my husband and baby,
Tonight I’m sleeping on the cold, cold ground,
But I’m sleeping with my Black Jack David,
But I’m sleeping with my Black Jack David.”
In 1905 MawMaw’s mother, Aunt Becky Shults Fowler, married Dugan Jenkins, a widower, who lived at the head of the Trail Holler in the McMillan Settlement, near Cosby, Tennessee. In 1910 she learned “Black Jack David” from Tolliver Jenkins' daughter, Elizabeth “Toll”. Her nickname was to distinguish her from another Elizabeth Jenkins, a relative. Tolliver was one of Dugan Jenkins' brothers. Elizabeth married a Compton, and moved to Knoxville, Tennessee.
I Met My Own True Love
I met my own true love. “Met, met,” said he,
“I return to my own native soil, and all for the sake of thee.
I return to my own native soil, and all for the sake of thee.”
“Come in, come in, my own true love and have a seat by me,
It’s been three fourths of a long, long year since together we have been.
It’s been three fourths of a long, long year since together we have been.”
“I can’t come in and I can’t sit down for I have but a moment of time,
I hear you’re married to a house carpenter and your heart will never be mine.
I hear you’re married to another young man and your heart will never be mine.”
It’s I could have married a rich king’s daughter, I’m sure she’d a married me,
But I refused a crown of gold and all for the sake of thee.
But I refused a crown of gold and all for the sake of thee.”
“If you could a married a rich king’s daughter, I’m sure you are to blame,
For I only married a house carpenter and I think he’s a nice young man.
For I only married a house carpenter and I think he’s a nice young man.”
“If you will leave your house carpenter and go along with me,
I’ll take you where the grass grows green and you can have liberty.
I’ll take you where the grass grows green and you can have liberty.”
“If I will leave my house carpenter and go along with thee,
Have you got anything to maintain me upon and keep me from slavery?
Have you got anything to maintain me upon and keep me from slavery?”
“I have five ships on the ocean wide a sailing for dry land,
A hundred and fifty bold seamen for to be at your command.
A hundred and fifty bold sea men for to be at your command.”
She picked up her sweet little babe and kisses she gave it three,
Saying, “Stay right here my sweet little babe and keep your papa company.”
Saying, “Stay right here my sweet little babe and keep your papa company.”
She dressed herself in silk so fine, most glorious to behold,
And as they walked out on the wharf she outshined the glittering gold.
And as they walked out on the wharf she outshined the glittering gold.
She hadn’t been gone but about two weeks, I’m sure it was not three,
Till she began to weep, till she began to mourn, “I wish I’d never left home.”
Till she began to weep, till she began to mourn, “I wish I’d never left home.”
“Are you a weeping for your silver and gold? Or either for your store?
Or are you a weeping for your house carpenter that you will never see no more?
Or are you a weeping for your house carpenter that you will never see no more?”
“I’m not a weeping for my silver nor my gold, nor either for your store,
I’m just a weeping for my sweet little babe’s face that I’ll never see no more.
I’m just a weeping for my sweet little babe’s face that I’ll never see no more.”
“Looky yonder, it’s my true love, as white as any snow.
That is Heaven, it’s I do know, where all the good people go.
That is Heaven, it’s I do know, where my sweet little babe shall go.”
“Looky yonder, it’s my true love, as black as any crow.
That is hell, it’s I do know, where you and I will go.
That is hell, it’s I do know, where you and I will go.”
Lower Creek, Lenoir, NC, November 1967, February 3, 1971
MawMaw Mae recollected the last two verses of “I Met My Own True Love” while she and my aunt Carrie McMillan (her oldest daughter 1921-2015) were discussing love songs they used to sing at home on Groundhog Creek, near Cosby, Tennessee. Aunt Carrie said she remembered distinctly hearing her mother, Mae, singing it while working in the garden. That would have been in the 1920’s and thirties. MawMaw learned it between 1905 and 1918, the year she married, from Dora Gilliland (pronounced “Gilland”) and Flora Belle Dorsey (often pronounced “Dawsey”) who lived on Cosby Creek. MawMaw also heard it as “Well met, well met, my old true love” from Johnny Phillips’s wife, Sis (nee Jenkins)). Sometimes MawMaw would begin it as “We’ve met, we’ve met, my old true love.”
A Maid A Being Young
Well, a maid a being young, she thought it no harm.
Well, a maid a being young, she thought it no harm.
Well, a maid a being young, she thought it no harm,
So she jumped in the bed and rolled in my arms.
And it’s what I done there I cannot tell here.
And it’s what I done there I cannot tell here.
It’s what I done there I cannot tell here,
But I wish that night had a been a long year.
Well, the six months passed and the time rolled by.
Well, the six months passed and the time rolled by.
The six months passed and the time rolled by;
Her slippers wouldn’t button, her apron’s wouldn’t tie.
Well, if it’s a girl child, hire it a nurse.
Silver and gold, put money in it’s purse;
Take it on your lap and comb its little head,
And don’t forget the night when I got your maidenhead.
Well, if it’s a boy child, name it after me;
Stick a gun in its pocket, dress t in blue,
And tell it to see the girls likes it’s papa used to do.
MawMaw learned this bawdy number from her cousin, Bethunie Clark who was taught it one night at the schoolhouse by her teacher, among other things. Bethunie got pregnant, and, to avoid scandal, her parents moved with her to middle Tennessee.
I Dreamed A Dream The Other Night
I dreamed a dream the other night,
All in my arms I had her;
But when I woke it was a joke,
I’se forced to lie without her.
Her yellow hair, like streams of gold,
Was lying on the pillow;
She’s the prettiest thing, I love her so well,
I’ll follow the railroad after her.
I followed her on to her uncle’s house,
Inquiring of such a fair one;
They answered, “Sir, she is not here,
And why do you inquire about her?”
But when she heard her true loves voice
She hastened to the window,
Says, “I freely would come to you, my love,
But the locks and bolts do hinder.”
As I stood there all in a maze,
All in those pains and humors,
My patience flew, my sword I drew,
And quickly I went to her.
I taken her by her lily white hand,
I led her over hills and valleys,
Saying, “Come all young men who love like me,
Take one and fight the other.”
Maw Maw Phillips
Lower Creek
Caldwell County NC
November 1967
Dickie And Johnson
Dickie said to Johnson one cold winter day,
“Let’s ride up on the mountain and pass the time away.”
So they rode and they rode till they came to the mountains high,
Dickie said to Johnson, “I heard a woman cry.”
They looked off to their right, and they looked off to their left,
They spied a naked woman chained down by herself.
“Oh, woman, poor woman, what are you doing down there?”
“The robbers they have robbed me and left me here to die.”
Then Dickie being kind hearted and easy for to mind,
He wropped her in his overcoat and put her p behind.
They rode and they rode ten thousand miles or more,
They spied seven robbers all standing in a row.
Then Johnson said to Dickie, “We’d better take wings and fly,”
But Dickie said to Johnson, “Before I’ll fly I’ll die.”
They fought and they fought till the sun was going down,
They killed six of the robbers and the seventh couldn’t be found.
Then Dickie being kind wearied lay down for to take a rest,
Up stepped the cruel woman and stobbed him in the breast.
“Oh, woman, cruel woman, see what you have done,
You’ve killed the bravest soldier that ever fired a gun.”
Maw Maw Phillips
November 1967
I’ve heard this song from a number of different people. My daddy sang it “You’ve killed the bravest cowboy that ever fired a gun.” He called it “Dixon and Johnson”. Dellie Norton sang “he wropped her in his big, grey coat”; her son-in-law said “Lets ride around Kings mountain”, etc.
Dark Is The Color Of My True Love’s Hair
Dark is the color of my true love’s hair,
His cheeks are like some rosy fair,
The sweetest face and the neatest hands;
I love the ground whereon he stands.
I love my love and well he knows
I love the ground whereon he goes.
If you no more on earth I see,
I wouldn’t treat you like you did me.
The winter’s passed , the leaves are green;
The time is passed that we have been;
But, still I hope the time will come
When you and I will be as one.
I go to cry, to mourn and weep,
But satisfied I cannot sleep.
You turned me away and broke my heart,
Oh, how can I from you depart?
So fare you well, my dear sweetheart,
You’ve slighted me but I wish you well.
If you no more on earth I see
I wouldn’t serve you like you served me.
November 1967
Maw Maw had another version of this piece which had the same verses, but added more to it from another folk song, sometimes called “The Slighted Sweetheart”. It also had a tune in a major key, whereas, this one was in a wailing minor. She said her girlfriends and she used to all sing it together as if they were crying.
Dellie Norton also knew this song as “Dark Is The Color” as well as “Black Is the Color” and she sang the second line: “His home is on some island fair.” Cas Wallin also knew it with slightly worded differences and a verse or two that MawMaw’s version didn’t have. Dellie said it used to be called “Fair Pink”.
I Used To Wear My Aprons Low
I used to wear my apron’s low,
I used to wear my apron’s low,
I used to wear my apron’s low,
My love followed me through frost and snow.
But now my apron’s to my chin,
But now my apron’s to my chin,
But now my apron’s to my chin,
My love drives by, but he won’t come in.
He goes down to yonder’s town,
He goes down to yonder’s town,
He goes down to yonder’s town,
Takes him a chair and he sits down.
He takes that other girl on his knee,
He takes that other girl on his knee,
He takes that other girl on his knee,
And he tells her the things that he once told me.
I wish to the Lord my baby was born,
I wish to the Lord my baby was born,
I wish to the Lord my baby was born,
A sitting on it’s papa’s knee.
And me, poor girl was dead and gone,
And me, poor girl was dead and gone,
And me, poor girl was dead and gone,
And the green grass growing over me.
Maw Maw used to work as a hired girl for an old couple back in the Smokie’s and learned this song from them as they sat on their porch. This would have been around 1916 or sooner. 1967
The War Is A Raging
The war is a raging and Johnny you must fight,
Oh, I want to be with you from morning till night.
I want to be with you, it grieves my heart so,
Won’t you let me go with you? “Oh, no, my darling, no.”
I’ll go to your general, I’ll fall on my knee’s,
I’ll offer one hundred bright guinea’s for your release.
One hundred bright guinea’s, they hurt my heart so,
Won’t you let me go with you? “Oh, no, my darling, no.”
I’ll tie up my hair, men’s clothing I’ll put on,
I’ll walk right beside you as you go marching along.
As you go marching along, it grieves my heart so,
Won’t you let me go with you? “Oh, no, my darling, no.”
“It’s you’d be standing on picket some cold winter’s day,
Your red, rosy cheeks they would soon fade away.”
Your red, rosy cheeks they grieve my heart so,
Won’t you let me go with you? “Oh, no, my darling, no.”
Oh, Johnny, I love you more than tongue can confess,
Won’t you let me go with you? “Oh, yes, my darling, yes.”
Mae Phillips
Lenoir, NC
June 13, 1973
Sailor Boy
Papa, papa, yonder he goes; Papa, papa, yonder he goes,
Papa, papa, yonder he goes with a Stetson hat and a suit of clothes.
Mama, mama, don’t you see? Mama, mama, don’t you see?
Mama, mama, don’t you see? I love little Willie and he loves me.
Father, oh, father, build me a boat, Father, father build me a boat,
Father, father, build me a boat so on the ocean I can float.
And ever ship that passes by, and ever ship that passes by,
And ever ship that passes by I think I hear little Willie cry.
Captain, captain tell me true, Captain, captain, tell me true,
Captain, captain, tell me true, does little Willie sail with you?
“Oh no, oh no, he’s not with me, Oh no, oh no, he’s not with me,
Oh no, oh no, he’s not with me, he got lost on the dark blue sea.”
She wrung her hands, she tore her hair, She wrung her hands, she tore her hair,
She wrung her hands, she tore her hair, like a maid in deep despair.
Her boat against a rock she run, Her boat against a rock she run,
Her boat against a rock she run, Cried, “Alas, what have I done?”
I’ll go home, I’ll write a song, I’ll go home. I’ll write a song,
I’ll go home, I’ll write a song, I’ll write it true, I’ll write it long.
At the head of every line she dropped a tear, At the head of every line she dropped a tear,
At the head of every line she dropped a tear, At the end of every line, “Sweet Willie, my dear.”
September 5, 1972
Lenoir, NC
A Pretty Fair Miss
A pretty fair miss all in a garden,
A sailor boy came riding by;
He rode to the gate and thus addressed her,
Saying, “Pretty fair miss, won’t ye be my bride?”
“Oh no, oh no, a girl of honor,
A man of honor you may be,
But how could you impose on a lady,
Wherefore your bride she’s not to be?”
“I have a lover in the army,
For seven long years he’s been oversea,
And if he’s gone, there’s seven years longer
No man on earth can marry me.”
“Perhaps he’s in some ocean drown-ded,
Perhaps he’s in some battle slain,
Perhaps he’s to some fair girl married,
His face you’ll never see again?”
“If he’s dead I hope he’s happy,
Or if he’s in some battle slain,
Or if he’s to some fair girl married
I’ll love the girl that married him.”
He drew his hands all out of his pockets,
His fingers being neat and small,
Saying, here’s the ring you gave me,
Prostrate before him she did fall.
He picked her up in his embraces,
Kisses sweet he give her three,
Saying, “I’m a single soldier
Just returned for to marry thee.”
November 1967
Lower Creek
Lenoir, NC
My Parents All Treated Me Kindly
My parents all treated me kindly for they had no child but me.
My mind began to ramble, on this we couldn’t agree.
My mind began to ramble, and oh, what grieves me so,
Is to leave my aged parents, their face to see no more.
There was a rich old gentleman, he lived in a town close by.
He had one only daughter, on whom I cast an eye.
She was both tall and handsome, most beautiful and fair,
There’s not one girl in this wide world with her I could compare.
I told her my intention was far across the main,
I asked if she’s prove true to me till I returned again,
She said she’s prove true to me if death didn’t prove unkind,
So we kissed, shook hands, and parted, and I left my girl behind.
I went over on Broadway, (out on the pubic square
The mail coach had just arrived,) I met the driver there.
He handed me a letter which gave me to good understand
That the girl I left behind me had married another man.
As I stood there a grieving, he said, “Poor boy, don’t cry,
Oh, money I have plenty and it’s for you and I.”
“My horses I’ll turn over, my company I’ll resign,
We’ll ramble this world over for the girl I left behind.”
November 1967
Lower Creek
Lenoir, NC
Maw Maw only knew an abbreviated version of “The Girl I Left Behind” but she had a fine tune for it. Aunt Lou Brookshire of the Kings Creek community near Lenoir, NC knew a longer variant. “Little Granny”, Berzilla Wallin, of the Sodom community, in Madison County, NC, knew a different version in which it is the man who proves faithless to his love, and is the cause of their deaths from broken hearts.
I Never Will Marry
One morning I rambled down by the seashore,
The wind it did whistle and the waters did roar.
I heard some fair maiden give a pitiful sound,
And it sounded so lonesome in the waters around.
“I never will marry, nor be no man’s wife,
I expect to live single all the days of life.”
“My love’s gone and left me, the one I adore,
He’s gone where I never shall see him no more.”
The shells in the ocean will be my death bed,
While fish in deep waters swim over my head.”
She plunged her fair body in the waters so deep,
And she closed her blue eyes in the waters to sleep.
I learned this from a number of people. My daddy knew most all of it; he told it basically like Maw Maw sang it. He wasn’t a singer, but he remembered the words to a number of songs he heard growing up in the McMillon Settlement, near Cosby, Tennessee. Mary Norton, Dellie’s daughter, of the Sodom community in Madison County, NC had a song ballet of it which had more verses.
Mama Sent Me To The Store
Mama sent me to the store, she told me not to stay;
I got struck on a blue eyed girl and could not get away.
First he give me peaches, next he give her pears,
Next he give me fifteen cents to kiss him on the stairs.
I give him back his peaches, I gave him back his pears,
I give him back his fifteen cents, then I kicked him down the stairs.
I can wash the dishes, I can scrub the floors,
I can kiss the pretty boys behind the parlor doors.
November 1967
Lower Creek Lenoir, NC
Boston Girl
I was raised in the city of Boston a town that you know well;
Brought up by honest parents, the truth to you I’ll tell.
Three weeks ago last Saturday night of course would be the day
The devil put it in my mind to take her life away.
I asked her for to take a walk a little piece away,
And we would have a little talk about our wedding day.
We walked along and we talked along to a dark and lonely place;
I picked a stake from off the fence and struck her in the face.
Down on her bended knees she fell and loud for mercy did cry,
“Oh Lord, it’s do not kill me here, I’m not prepared to die.”
I run my hands through her coal black hair as if for to cover my sin;
I drug her out to the riverside and there I plunged her in.
“Lay there, lay there, you Boston girl, with dark and rolling eyes,
Lay there, lay there, you Boston Girl, you never will be my bride,”
Come all young men and warning take, unto your lover be true,
And never let the devil get the upper hand of you.
Lenoir, NC
September 5, 1972
Bob Lindsey, of Groundhog Creek, near Cosby, Tennessee, used to play this piece on the guitar and sing it in a deep drawl, as MawMaw recalled. Although lifetime acquaintances, this would have been learned in the 1920’s and 30’s.
Loving Henry
Have you seen my loving Henry? Have you seen my loving man?
Have you seen my loving Henry up here loafing around?
I’m just daffy about my Henry, he’s the sweetest in the land.
This girl, you sure will tickle if you find my Henry man.
I know he isn’t fickle, we never had a row,
This girl, you sure will tickle if you find my Henry now.
When I Was A Little Boy
When I was a little boy I lived by myself,
And all the bread and cheese I got I laid in on the shelf.
The rats and the mice led me such a life
I had to go to London to get me a wife.
The streets was so muddy and the roads so narrow
I had to haul her home in an old wheelbarrow.
The wheelbarrow broke and my wife caught a fall,
Away went the wheel barrow, wife and all.
The Bloody Dagger
‘Oh, Katie dear, go ask your mama
If you can be a bride of mine;
If she says yes, come back and tell me,
If she says no, we’ll run away.”
“Oh, Willie dear, there’s no need asking,
For she’s upstairs a taking her rest,
And by her side is a little white dagger
To slay the one I love the best.”
“Oh, Katie dear, go ask your papa
If you can be a bride of mine,
If he says yes come back and tell me,
If he says no we’ll run away.”
“Oh, Willie dear, there’s no need asking,
For he’s upstairs a taking his rest,
And by his side is a bloody dagger
To slay the one I love the best.”
Then he picked up the bloody dagger
And plunged it through his troubled heart,
Saying, “Goodbye Katie, goodbye darling,
It’s now forever we must part.”
Then she picked up the bloody dagger
And stove it through her lily white breast,
Saying, “Goodbye papa, goodbye mama,
I’ll die for the one I love the best.”
Maw Maw Phillips
Lower Creek
Caldwell County NC
1972
Saddled Up My Old Grey Mare
Saddled up my old grey mare, saddled up my old grey mare,
Saddled up my old grey mare, and led her off up to the fair.
When she got there she’s very tired, when she got there she’s very tired,
When she got there she’s very tired, she lay down in the old church yard.
When they went to lead her in, when they went to lead her in,
When they went to lead her in, the preacher laughed and the old mare grinned.
When the preacher begin to preach, when the preacher begin to preach,
When the preacher begin to preach the old mare got up on her feet.
When the preacher begin to pray, when the preacher begin to pray,
When the preacher begin to pray the old mare got in a devil of a way.
When they went to lead her out, when they went to lead her out,
When they went to lead her out ye ought to a heard that old mare shout.
When they took her to be baptized, when they took her to be baptized,
When they took her to be baptized, the preacher laughed and the old mare cried.
When they led her from the church, when they led her from the church,
When they led her from the church, fed her up on mountain birch.
(Then the old grey mare, she died, then the old grey mare she died,
Then the old grey mare, she died, the people laughed and the preacher cried.)
Lower Creek
Lenoir, NC
November 1967
MawMaw learned this from her mother, Rebecca Shults (1868-1963), who, I believe learned it from her father, John W. Shults (1841-1904). She said they fed the mare on mountain birch and it died, but couldn’t quite remember the words, so the last verse is my reconstruction of how it went.
Knoxville Girl
There was a girl in Knoxville town, a girl that I loved well,
And every Sunday evening in her home I’d dwell.
I called her up at her sister’s house at eight o’clock one night,
But little did her sister say at her I had a spite.
I asked her for to take a walk with me a little piece away,
That we would have a little talk about our wedding day.
We walked along and we talked along to a dark and lonely place,
I took a stake from off the fence and struck her in the face.
And on her bended knee’s she fell and loud for mercy did cry,
“Oh Lord, it’s do not kill me here I’m not prepared to die.”
(She never spoke another word, I only beat her more,
I beat her till the ground around flowed in a bloody gore.)
I run my hands through her coal black hair as if for to cover my sin,
I drug her to the riverside and there I plunged her in.
“Lay there, lay there, you Knoxville girl with dark and rolling eyes,
Lay there, lay there, you Knoxville girl, you can never be my bride.
I started back to Knoxville, got there about midnight;
My mother, she was worried and woke up in a fright.
“Oh son, oh son, what have you done to bloody your hands and clothes?”
The answer that I give to her was a bleeding at the nose.
I asked my mother for a handkerchief for to tie up my aching head,
And also for a candle to light me off to bed.
I walked up to my boarding place expecting to take a rest;
It seemed as if the flames of hell were burning in my breast..
Just about six weeks later that Knoxville girl was found
Floating down the river that flows through Knoxville town.
Her sister swore my life away, she swore without a doubt,
She swore I was the very one that took her sister out.
And now they’re going to hang me a death I hate to die,
They’re going to hang me up so high between the earth and sky.
September 9, 1972
Son, Oh Son, Oh What’s The Matter?
Will Weaver-o
“Son, oh son, oh what’s the matter?
Does your wife scold, does she flatter?
Or does she to the tavern go
Along with Will Weaver-O?”
:She don’t lie, nor she don’t chatter,
She don’t scold, nor she don’t flatter,
But she to the tavern go
Along with Will Weaver-O.”
He came home all in a wonder,
Knocking at the door like thunder,
“Who is that?” Will Weaver cried,
“It’s my husband, you must hide.“
He sat down by the fireside weeping,
Up the chimney he got to peeping;
There he spied the wretched soul
Perched upon the upper pole.
“Hee, haw haw, now I’ve found ye,
Neither will I hang, nor drown ye,”
This he thought, but never spoke,
“I’ll roust him down from there with smoke.”
He built on a rousting fire
Just to suit his own desire;
“Take him down and spare his life,
Just for the sake of a wedded wife.”
He put on a little more fuel,
What he thought his life was duel.
(Wife cried out with a free good will,
“Husband dear, that man you’ll kill.”)
He reached up and down he brought him,
Like a raccoon dog he shook him,
Shook him till his back was red,
Now poor Will Weaver’s dead.
Maw Maw learned this from her brother, Joe Fowler, who lived on Indian Camp Creek.
High Topped Shoes
“Oh, where did you get them high topped shoes
And the dress you wear, so fine?”
“I got my shoes from a railroad man
And my dress from a man in the mines.”
“Oh, who’s gonna shoe your pretty little feet?
Who’s gonna glove your hand?
And who’s gonna kiss your rosy red lips
When I’m in the far off land?”
“Papa’s gonna shoe my pretty little feet,
Mama’s gonna glove my hand,
Brother’s gonna kiss my rosy red lips
And you’re gonna be my man.”
“The long steel rails and the short cross ties,
Gonna walk my way back home.”
“The longest train I ever did see
Run on a Murphy line,
The engine passed at eight o’clock,
The cab didn’t pass till nine.”
“Look up, look down that lonesome road,
Hang down your head and cry,
The best of friends must part sometimes,
So why not you and I?”
Lenoir, NC
November 1967
Two Ways There Be
Two ways there be to anything, a right way and a wrong,
I’ve catched this world in many tricks, that’s why I sing this song.
The farmer is an honest man, he fills his calling right,
He plows his fields and works his rows from morning until night.
This world’s a hoax, a bubble light of vain delusions fair,
For we are beat in many ways, just now and then and there.
Lightning bug comes in the month of May, June bug comes in June,
Bedbug comes just any old time and says, “I’ve come to stay.”
You May Look For Me Till Your Eyes Runs Water
You may look for me till your eyes runs water,
You may look for me till your eyes runs water,
You may look for me till your eyes runs water,
But I’ll be home someday or another.
It may be June, July, or August,
It may be June, July, or August,
It may be June, July, or August,
But I’ll be home someday or another.
Maw Maw learned this from her mother. I’ve found the first verse in a variant of “Swannanoa Town-O” as collected by Cecil Sharp in1918 near Burnsville, NC. It has a sweet, lonesome tune; different than the rail road song, but what any other verses could have been to this one are gone forever.
August 30, 1972
Down In New Hampshire
Down in New Hampshire a lady did dwell,
She was courted by a squire who loved her so well.
To marry this young lady, it was his intent,
Her friends and her relations had given their consent.
She fired many times, but nothing she did kill,
Until the young farmer came out in the field.
“Why weren’t you at the wedding, the wedding?” she cried,
“To wait on the squire and give him his bride?”
“Oh no, my kind lady, the truth to you I’ll tell,
I could not give her up for I love her too well.”
They laughed and sang a song as they rode along.
How she caught the farmer with her dog and her gun.
I think Maw Maw learned this song from her brother Joe Fowler. She couldn’t remember it all. Miss Ella Mae Costner and her sister sang a similar version of it from the same area, called “Down In Tennessee.” They told me they had changed the title of it to suit the locale. I used to have a copy of their version, but lost it over the years.
September 5, 1972
Listen To My Mournful Story
Listen to my mournful story, all my friends are dead and gone,
Father, I have none, nor mother, a poor orphan left alone.
Mother said when she was dying and her breath was almost gone,
“Dearest daughter, you will soon be a poor orphan left alone.”
“Take this Bible to your closet; read and pray both night and day;
Seek protection in your sorrow while an orphan left alone.”
Take this Bible mother gave me, lay it with me in the tomb,
Tell my friends while weeping round me, Heaven is my happy home. November, 1967
Wild Bill Jones
One day when I was a walking around,
I met up with a wild Bill Jones.
He’s a walking and a talking by my Lulu’s side
When I forbid him, to leave her alone.
He said, “Young man, my age is twenty three
And that’s too old for to be controlled.”
I took my revolver from my side
And I killed that poor boys soul.
He reeled, he rocked, and he fell to the ground,
He gave one dying groan.
He placed his eyes on my Lulu’s face,
Says, ”Darling, you’re left alone.”
Soon the handcuffs was placed tight around my arms
And I was marched to the Franklin jail,
No friends or relations a standing around,
Nobody for to go my bail.
I wrote my Lulu a letter, boys,
And this is what it said,
“Won’t you take back a word or two?
Oh honey, won’t you go my bail?”
She answered my letter in a sad reply,
And this is what it said,
Says, “I guess you’re in trouble now, poor boy,
But never hang down your head.”
“Got forty nine dollars in my pocket
And a forty four in my hand,
If you want to go boys with a rowdy crew,
Come and go with a gambling man.” November, 1967 Lower Creek Lenoir, NC
Old Joe Dawson
Old Joe Dawson, the bully of the town,
Oh, Lordy Lord.
Old Joe Dawson, the bully of the town
Rode through the Haywood, he got shot down,
Oh, Lordy me.
Here comes his wife with her child on her arm,
Oh, Lordy Lord.
Here comes his wife with her child on her arm,
“They killed my man and it’ll kill me,”
Oh, Lordy me.
Shot him in the neck and he fell on his side,
Oh, Lordy Lord.
Shot him in the neck and he fell on his side,
And that was the death Joe Dawson died,
Oh, Lordy me.
Maw Maw told me that an ordinance was passed in Newport (TN) that this song couldn’t be sung within the town limits. Joe Dawson was the sheriff, or, a sheriff in Newport at the end of the nineteenth century. She said he came into Haywood County, NC one night with a revenue agent looking for “Sandy” John Sutton’s still. Sandy John was Mae’s husband’s grandfather. When MawMaw was a girl, or, teenager, she stayed at Sandy John’s place as a hired girl for a time. Anyway, Sandy John was hid in the woods and saw them come around the mountain carrying tin lamps to see by. When they got to the still, instead of busting it up, they went to dividing the liquor. And Sandy John cracked down on the sheriff “and that was the death Joe Dawson died.”
Sandy John Sutton shot and killed Sheriff Joseph S. Dawson, 31, of Cocke County, Tennessee on Thursday, April 20, 1899. Dawson had come into Haywood County, NC illegally and went to Sandy John’s house looking for blockade whiskey. John wasn’t then at home and apparently Dawson pushed around Genetta, John’s wife. Sandy John came in afterwards and found out what happened and went to the woods where he spied Joe and the revenuer at his still where he shot him. He was never arrested for the crime, though it was widely known he had killed “Old Joe Dawson”. The song was composed shortly thereafter allegedly by a Mrs. Hicks. MawMaw Phillips said that her stepfather, Dugan Jenkins had been friends with Dawson and wouldn’t let the ballet be sung at his house. Mrs. Tilda Webb of Cosby sang this version of it.:
Death Of Joe Dawson
Sheriff Joe Dawson was the bully of the town,
Oh Lawdy law.
He rode through Haywood and got shot down,
Oh, Lawdy law.
He rode through the Haywood and got shot down.
He rode through Haywood robbing stills,
Oh, Lawdy law.
He rode through Haywood robbing stills,
He got shot down in Joe Phillips field,
Oh, Lawdy law.
He got shot down in Joe Phillips field.
He was shot in the neck and fell on his side,
Oh, Lawdy law.
He was shot in the neck and fell on his side
And that’s the death Joe Dawson died,
Oh, Lawdy law.
And that’s the death Joe Dawson died.
He came riding on his horses back,
Oh, Lawdy law.
He came riding on his horses back,
Little Charlie Roberts brought him back in a forty dollar hack,
Oh, Lawdy law.
Little Charlie Roberts brought him back in a forty dollar hack.
Tilda Webb is a distant cousin of mine through the Suttons and Jenkins and is related to Sandy John as well.
The late Jean Schilling (nee Costner) and her husband, Lee, ran a dulcimer shop at Cosby, near the entrance to the Park. They recorded a song called “Death of A Sheriff” based on a copy of the song that Jean had. In their version of the song, among others, were the lines: “Joe Dawson got shot at Carlton Springs as through the Haywood he went a riding”….”I dreamed last night and the night before that death walked by my open door”….”Iffen I live and I don’t get shot, I’ll make my liquor in a coffee pot.” I used to have a copy of Jeans version, but, alas, it’s vanished in the passing of time.
Little Omie Wise
Omie, poor Omie, poor little Omie Wise,
How she was deluded by John Lewis’s lies.
How she was deluded by John Lewis’s lies.
He promised to meet her at Adams’s Springs,
He’d bring her some money, some other fine things.
He bring her some money, some other fine things
She met him in the morning at Adams’s Springs,
But he brought her no money, no other fine things.
But he brought her no money, no other fine things.
He brought her no money, but he flattered a case,
“We’ll go and get married, it’ll be no disgrace.”
“We’ll go and get married, it’ll be no disgrace.”
She jumped up behind him and away they did go,
Off to the river where the deep waters flow.
Off to the river where the deep waters flow.
“John Lewis, John Lewis, please tell me your mind,
Is your mind for to marry or leave me behind?”
“Is your mind for to marry or leave me behind?”
Omie, little Omie, I’ll tell you my mind,
My mind is to kill you and leave you behind.”
“My mind it is to kill you and leave you behind.”
“Considerance, considerance, come spare me my life,
And let me go begging if I can’t be your wife.”
“And let me go begging if I can’t be your wife.”
He hugged her and he kissed her and slung her all around,
Out in the deep waters where he knew she would drown.
Out in the deep waters where he knew she would drown.
Two little babies a sitting on the bank,
Saw little Omie’s body come flying down the way.
Saw little Omie’s body come flying down the way.
They threw their nets around her and drug her to the bank,
Took little Omie’s body and laid it on a plank.
Took little Omie’s body and laid it on a plank.
1967
1972
I think in the stanza sung by Maw Maw as “Considerance, considerance…” she was probably misremembering a line that had gone something like: “Consider my infant and spare me my life.”
Don’t This Road Look Rough And Rocky?
Don’t this road look rough and rocky?
Don’t the sea look wide and deep?
Don’t my darling look much sweeter
When she’s in my arms asleep?
Part of a song Maw Maw had forgotten or didn’t sing all of to me at the time.
Louella
Way down in a low green valley
Where the violets fade and bloom,
There lies my love Louella
A moldering in the tomb.
She died not broken hearted,
Nor by disease she fell,
But in one moment parted
From all that she loved well.
“Come, love, and let us wander
Out in the woods, so gay,
While wandering we will ponder
And `point our wedding day.”
The way grew dark before her,
Says she, “I’m afraid to roam.
I’ll bid farewell forever
To parents, kind friends, and home.”
Down on her knees before him
She pleaded for her life.
Down deep into her bosom
He plunged the fatal knife.
“Yes, Willie, I’ll forgive you,
I wish we’d a never met,
My heart I cannot alter,
Nor teach it to forget.”
“Yes, Willie, I’ll forgive you,”
Was her last and dying breath.
“I never did deceive you,”
She closed her eyes in death.
Next morning they found her body
And laid it in the tomb,
Way down in yonder’s valley
Where the violets fade and bloom.
November, 1967
Lower Creek
Lenoir, NC
Railroad Lover
I won’t marry a farmer
For he deals in dirt.
I’d rather marry a railroad boy
Who wears a calico shirt.
Refrain
Railroad lover, oh, railroad dear,
A railroad lover for me;
If ever I marry in all my old days
A railroads bride I’ll be.
I won’t marry a preacher
For he kneels in prayer.
I’d rather marry a railroad boy
Who wears a light, curly hair.
I won’t marry a merchant
For he deals in sale.
I’d rather marry a railroad boy,
He rides on top of the train.
I wont marry a blacksmith
For he deals in coal.
I’d rather marry a railroad boy
Who wears a watch of gold.
Maw Maw Phillips
Lower Creek
Caldwell County NC
1967
Going Back To North Carolina
One sweet kiss and then I’ll leave you,
One sweet kiss and then I’ll leave you,
One sweet kiss and then I’ll leave you,
For I never expect to see you any more.
Refrain
I’m going back to North Carolina,
I’m going back to North Carolina,
I’m going back to North Carolina,
For I never expect to see you any more.
My home’s across the Blue Ridge Mountains,
My home’s across the Blue Ridge Mountains,
My home’s across the Blue Ridge Mountains,
For I never expect to see you any more.
Oh, how I hate to leave you,
Oh, how I hate to leave you,
Oh, how I hate to leave you,
For I never expect to see you any more.
How can I keep from crying?
How can I keep from crying?
How can I keep from crying?
For I never expect to see you any more.
Goodbye, my little darling,
Goodbye, my little darling,
Goodbye, my little darling,
For I never expect to see you any more.
January 31, 1972
Lower Creek
Lenoir, NC
First learned in November, 1967 and over the years sung often by MawMaw and me.
She always pronounced “Carolina” as “Caliner”.
Gypsy, Gypsy
Oh, captain, captain, tell me true,
Does my sweet Willie sail with you?
“Oh, no, he does not sail with me,
For he is over the deep blue sea.”
Oh, father, father, build me a boat,
So on the ocean I can float,
And ever ship that I pass by,
I think I hear my Willie cry.
Oh, gypsy, gypsy, tell me true,
Please tell me something I can do.
I’ll travel over this whole wide world
To keep him from another girl.
He told me that he loved me so,
But on a voyage he must go,
And someday he would return to me,
And then how happy I would be.
When over the ocean he had roamed,
He’d come drifting back to home,
He’d fall into my waiting arms
And I’d be happy with his charms.
Since you first came into my life
I often dreamed I was your wife.
But you have been untrue to me
And gone to sail the deep blue sea.
I see no pleasure without you,
You know you said what you would do.
You said a letter you would write,
That one I pray for every night.
The days are very dark and blue,
I see and dream of only you.
And pray that you’ll come back again,
So in my heart there’ll be no pain. August 30, 1972 Lenoir, NC
I’m A Poor Girl
The Wagoner’s Lad
I’m a poor girl and my fortune is bad,
I truly was courted by a wagoner’s lad.
He courted me truly by night and by day,
But now he’s hitched up and driving away.
Your horses is hungry, go feed them some hay;
Come sit down beside me as long as you stay.
“My horses ain’t hungry, they won’t eat your hay,
So, fare you well Polly, I’m driving away.”
“My wagon is greasy, my bill is to pay,
So, fare you well Polly, I’ve no time to stay.
My wagon is greasy, my whip’s in my hand,
So, fare you well Polly, I’ve no time to stand.”
“Your parents don’t like me because I am poor,
They say I’m not worthy to enter your door.
Your parents are against me (and mine are the same,
If I’m wrote in your book, love, please rub out my name..”)
It’s hard is the fortune of poor woman kind,
They’re always controlled, they’re always confined;
Controlled by their parents till they become wives,
And slaves to their husbands the rest of their lives.
Oh, now he is gone and left me alone,
Left nothing behind him but small birds to mourn.
If ever I meet him I’ll crown him with joy
And kiss the sweet lips of my wagoner’s boy.
November 1967
September 4, 1972
Lower Creek Lenoir,NC
Come All Ye Fair And Tender Ladies
Come all ye fair and tender ladies,
Be careful how you court young men.
They’re like a bright star in a summer’s morning;
They first appear and then they’re gone.
They’ll tell to you some lovely story;
Declare to you they love you well;
Straightway they’ll go and court some other,
And that’s the love they have for you.
I wish that I had never seen him,
Or that I’d a died when I was young;
To think a fair and handsome lady
Was stricken by his lying tongue.
Oh, love is sweet and love is charming
And love is pleasant when it’s new;
But love grows cold as it grows old
And fades away like the morning dew.
If I had knowed before I courted
True love was so hard to win,
I’d a locked my heart in a silver box
And pinned it with a pin.
I wish I were a little white swallow
And had wings and, oh, could fly so high.
I’d fly away to my false true lover,
And when he’d speak, I’d deny.
But I’m not no little white swallow,
Hain’t got no wings to fly so high.
I’ll sit alone in grief and sorrow
And try to pass my troubles by.
I hope there is a day a coming
When my lover I shall see.
I hope there is a place of torment
To punish my love for denying me.
Maw Maw Phillips 1972
No Home No Home
“No home, no home,” plead a little girl
At the door of a family hall,
As she trembling stood on the marble steps,
And leaned on the polished wall.
And leaned on the polished wall.
Her clothes were thin and her feet were bare
And the snow had covered her head.
“Oh, give me a home,” she feebly cried,
“A home and a piece of bread.”
“A home and a piece of bread.”
“My father, alas, I never knew,”
Tears dimmed her eyes so bright,
“My mother sleeps in a new made grave,
Tis an orphan that begs tonight.”
“Tis an orphan that bags tonight.”
The night was dark and the snow still fell
As the rich man closed his door,
And his proud lips curled as he scornfully said,
“No room, no bread for the poor.”
“No room, no bread for the poor.”
“I must freeze,” she cried as she sank on the steps,
Strove to wrap up her hands and feet,
And her tattered dress all covered in snow,
Is covered in snow and sleet.
Is covered in snow and sleet.
The rich man slept on his velvet bed
And dreamed of his silver and gold;
While the orphan lie on a bed of snow,
And murmured, “So cold, so cold.”
The night was dark and the midnight storm
Rolled on like a funeral bell,
And the earth was wropped in a winding sheet,
And the drops of snow still fell.
And the drops of snow still fell.
The morning dawned and the little girl
Still lay at the rich man’s door;
But her soul had fled to her home above,
Where there’s room and bread for the poor.
Where there’s room and bread for the poor.
November 1967
Lower Creek
Lenoir, NC
This was one of the first songs Maw Maw ever remembered hearing.
Jack And Joe
Three years ago when Jack and Joe set sail across the farm,
They vowed a fortune each would gain before returning home.
In one short year Jack gained his wealth and sailed for home that day,
And as they shook their hands to part poor Joe could only say:
Refrain
“Oh, give my love to Nellie, Jack, and kiss her once for me;
The fairest girl in all this world, I know you’ll say is she.
Treat her kind, oh Jack, oh boy, and tell her I am well.”
Those parting words were, “Don’t forget to give my love to Nell.”
Three years had passed, and Joe at last gained wealth enough for life;
He sailed for home across the farm to make sweet Nell his wife.
But little did he ever think that Jack and Nell had wed;
With tears and frets and sad regrets he wished he’d never said:
They chanced to meet upon the street, says, “Jack, you selfish elf;
The next girl that I learn to love, I’ll kiss her for myself.
“All is vain, in love,” he said, “As you have gone and wed;
I’ll not be angry with you, Jack,” and once again he said:
September 3, 1972 Lenoir, NC
Oh Brother Green
Oh, brother Green, do come to me
And write my wife a letter;
A southern foe has laid me low
On this cold ground to suffer.
I know that she has prayed for me,
And I know her prayers are answered,
That I might be prepared to die
If I should fall in battle.
Dear brother, you have suffered long
And prayed for my salvation,
And I must die and leave you all,
Still hope to meet in Heaven.
Tell my wife she must not grieve,
But kiss the little children,
For they will call for me in vain
When I am gone to Heaven.
Dear Mary, you must teach them well,
And train them up for Heaven,
That they may love and serve the Lord,
And they will be respected.
Dear Brother Green, I’m dying now,
Oh, that I die so easy.
Oh, surely death has lost its sting
Before my loving Jesus.
Maw Maw said that her stepfather, Dugan Jenkins, claimed to have been in the army with Brother Green, but that he got better and made it home. 1972
Sourwood Mountain
I got a girl on Sourwood Mountain,
She’s both crippled and blind.
(Broke the heart of many poor lovers,
But she ain’t broke this heart of mine.)
Chickens a crowing on Sourwood Mountain,
Hi, ho, diddle um a day.
Call the dogs and we’ll go hunting,
Hi, ho, diddle um a day.
Oh man, oh man, I want your daughter,
Hi, ho, diddle um a day,
To bake my bread and carry me water,
Hi, ho, diddle um a day.
Big dogs bark and the little dogs bite you,
Hi, ho, diddle um a day.
Big girls court and the little girls slight you,
Hi, ho, diddle um a day.
My true love lives up the holler,
Hi, ho, diddle um a day.
She won’t come and I can’t foller,
Hi, ho, diddle um a day.
My true love lives up the river,
Hi, ho, diddle um a day.
A few more jumps and I’ll be with her,
Hi, ho, diddle um a day.
Ducks in the mill pond, geese in the ocean,
Hi, ho, diddle um a day.
Devil’s in the women when they take a notion,
Hi, ho, diddle um a day.
1972 MawMaw learned this from her husband, Walter Phillips.
There On Bird’s Creek
Come one and all ye rambling boys,
And I’ll declare my woes and joys;
Listen now, what I declare
What fixed on me my cruel despair.
There on Bird’s Creek I married me a wife,
And I loved her dear as I loves my life;
I dressed her up so neat and gay,
I then contrived to bring her away.
Some time was spent in a pleasant life,
But later on came sorrow and strife,
Declared with me she would not stay,
She’d take her lief (leave) and go away.
Keeler pleaded oft with Kate to stay,
He was slighted much, “Go, go away.
Yes, get you up and be you gone,
I want your room for my dear son.”
“Yes, go away, and ever roam,
For in my house you have no home.
And never call or come again,
But fix your hopes on other men.”
In a corset tight and a coal black gown
Poor Katie rode to Newport town;
She there did go to lawyer Mims,
Some news she has to relate to him.
“There’s a marriage vow that’s a binding me,
And I call on you to set me free;
To build my plea’s and to pled my cause
That I may be free like the rambling boys.”
The lawyer said in a lawyers style,
With a pleasant gleam and a joyous smile,
“The proper thing for us to do
Is keep this secret, me and you.”
“Sheriff Cates, our plan must know,
He’ll mount his horse and quickly go
To pounce upon the old man’s steed,
It is a prize we greatly need.”
”The old man’s here, make haste, make haste,
And notify our sheriff Cates.”
The lawyer then, in a break neck speed
Did try his utmost to succeed.
Old Sheridan on his warrior steed
Could scarcely have made greater speed
Than Cates did make to the Ellum tree,
“Lo, Keeler’s gone, oh, where is he?”
The sheriff dismounts, begins to seek,
He goes high up on the mountains peak.
He quickly halts and turns around,
Saying, “Keeler’s gone, he can’t be found.”
Cates says harsh words that leave a sting,
“Don’t let the old man keep a thing,
Though he works hard, does little harm,
Swings scythe and cradle on each arm.”
Then Cates spoke up with a bitter smile,
Saying, “There’s no need to go to trial,
Your steed is all I want to take,
I want it now, don’t want to wait.”
Keeler saved his horse with nerve and pluck,
He’s hopeful yet of some good luck.
He may survive and live some time
For he is guilty of no crime
Oh, love, you may with all your heart,
Cords sometimes break and you may part.
So bind your heart with a love locked cord
And give the key unto the Lord.
Vow nevermore from each other part
While each retains a beating heart.
You then may live a pleasant life
With a husband true and a loving wife.
MawMaw Phillips learned “There On Bird’s Creek”, or, “Old Keeler” as a child at the home of her stepfather, Dugan Jenkins. She said Dugan knew “Old” Keeler and perhaps had the ballet from him, as he was said to have written it himself. I don’t know where she learned the tune which is sung to “The Rake and Rambling Boy”, a song I never heard MawMaw sing.
MawMaw couldn’t remember all the words, but she got some of them from a Bryant man, who lived near Hartford, and the rest supplied from a song ballet written down by Bryson Valentine of Cosby.
Green Grows The Laurel
I used to have a sweetheart, but now I have none;
He’s gone and left me, I live all alone,
I live all alone and contented I’ll be,
For he says he loves another one better than me.
Refrain
Green grows the laurel all wet with the dew,
Sad was the day I parted with you,
But from experience I would have you to know
Young men are deceitful wherever they go.
I pass my love’s window both morning and night;
I pass my love’s window both early and late,
To see my love sit there it made my heart ache,
The lad of the laurel, the lad of the lake.
I wrote her a letter in rosy red lines,
She wrote me a letter all twisted and twine,
Saying, “Keep your love letters and I’ll keep mine,
Go write to your sweetheart and I’ll write to mine.”
There Was An Old Man Lived Under The Hill
There was an old man lived under the hill,
He shit in his shoe and sent it to the mill.
The miller swore to the point of his knife,
He never took a toll of a turd in his life.”
Rhyme learned by Maw Maw in Tennessee.
I Was Born In East Virginia
I was born in East Virginia,
North Carolina I did go;
There I spied a pretty little lady,
And her age I do not know.
Her hair was dark of color,
Her lips was rosy red;
On her breast she wore white lilies,
Oh, the tears that I have shed.
At my heart you are my darling,
At my door you’re welcome in,
At my gate I’ll always meet you,
For you’re the girl I tried to win.
Papa said we could not marry,
Mama said it’d never do,
But if you are willing darling,
I will run away with you.
When I’m asleep I’m dreaming about you,
When I awake there is no rest.
Every moment seems like an hour,
Every pain seems like death.
You may meet with many chances
Floating down the river stream,
But remember, little darling,
You are always in my dreams.
You may meet with brighter faces,
They will tell you I’m not true.
But remember, little darling,
No one loves you like I do.
I’d rather be in some dark holler
Where the sun don’t never shine,
Than for you to be some other man’s darling
When you promised to be mine.
I don’t want your greenback dollar,
I don’t want your watch and chain.
All I want is your heart, darling
Won't you take me back again?
1968
Lower Creek
Lenoir, NC
One Morning, One Morning
One morning, one morning, one morning in May,
I spied a fair couple a winding their way.
One was a lady, so sweet and so fair,
And the other was a soldier, a brave volunteer.
They had not been standing but one hour or two,
When out of his knapsack a fiddle he drew.
He played such a tune, made the mountains to ring.
See, the silver waters gliding, hear the nightingales sing.
“Pretty lady, pretty lady, it’s time to give o’er,”
“Oh no, pretty soldier, please play one tune more.
I’d rather hear your fiddle, just the touch of one string,
Than see the waters gliding, hear the nightingales sing.”
“Pretty soldier, pretty soldier, will you marry me?”
“Oh no, pretty lady, that never can be.
I’ve a wife back in London and children it’s twice three,
Two wives in the army’s too many for me.”
“I’ll go back to London, I’ll stay there one year,
And often I’ll think of you, little dear.
And when I return to you in the Spring,
To see the waters gliding, hear the nightingales sing.”
November 1967
Lower Creek
Lenoir, NC
Lazy John
“Lazy John, lazy John, will you marry me?”
“How can I marry such a pretty girl as you
With me no shoes to wear?”
Then up she flipped, and down she skipped,
And down to the market square,
The finest shoes that she could find
Her lazy John to wear.
“Lazy John, lazy John, will you marry me?”
“How can I marry such a pretty girl as you
With me no socks to wear?”
Then up she flipped and down she skipped
And down to the market square,
The finest socks that she could find
Her lazy John to wear.
“Lazy John, lazy John, will you marry me?”
“How can I marry such a pretty girl as you
With me no pants to wear?”
Then up she flipped and down she skipped
And down to the market square,
The finest pants that she could find
Her lazy John to wear.
“Lazy John, lazy John, will you marry me?”
“How can I marry such a pretty girl as you
With me no shirt to wear?”
Then up she flipped and down she skipped
And down to the market square,
The finest shirt that she could find
Her lazy John to wear.
“Lazy John, lazy John, will you marry me?”
“How can I marry such a pretty girl as you
With me no hat to wear?”
Then up she flipped and down she skipped
And down to the market square,
The finest hat that she could find
Her lazy John to wear.
“Lazy John, lazy John, will you marry me?”
“How can I marry such a ugly girl as you
With a wife and kids at home?”
Or (“With all these fine clothes on.”)
January 30, 1972 Lenoir, NC
Down In A Willow Garden
Down in a willow garden
Where me and my love did meet;
There we set a courting,
My love dropped off to sleep.
I had a bottle of burglars wine,
But my true love did not know.
There I poisoned that dear little girl
Down under the banks below.
I stobbed her with a dagger
Which was a bloody knife,
I throwed her in the river
Which was an awful sight.
My father’s often told me
That money would set me free
If I would murder that dear little girl
Whose name was Rosalee.
Now he sets in his cabin door
Wiping his tear dimmed eyes,
Looking at his own dear son
Up on the scaffold high.
My race is done beneath the sun
And hell is waiting for me,
For I did murder that dear little girl
Whose name was Rosalee.
Coffee Grows On White Oak Sprouts
Clouds are looking dark,
Clouds are looking hazy,
Ever time I go that road,
Go to see my daisy.
Fly around my pretty little miss,
Fly around my daisy,
Fly around my pretty little miss,
Ye dern nigh run me crazy.
You can plow the one eared ox,
I’ll plow the muley.
Hand me down my scissor tailed coat
And I’ll go home with Julie.
Coffee grows on white oak sprouts,
And the rivers flows with brandy.
The streets are lined with ten dollar bills,
The girls as sweet as candy.
Round and round the mulberry bush,
The riper grows the berries.
Sooner young men court the girls,
Sooner they will marry.
Johnson Boys
Johnson boys, raised in ashes,
Didn’t know how to court old maids.
Turned their backs to hide their faces.
Step up pretty girls, don’t be afraid.
Step up pretty girls, don’t be afraid.
Free A Little Bird
I’m as free a little bird as I can be,
I’m as free a little bird as I can be.
I’ll build my nest in the ruffle of her dress
Where the bad boys cannot bother me.
I Used To Have A Sweetheart
I used to have a sweetheart,
A sweetheart, brave and true,
His hair was dark and curly,
His loving eyes were blue.
You know he’s like all other boys,
He had a friend and charms,
And oft, together they would go
For pleasure and for fun.
They persuaded him away one day.
I never knew what for.
They persuaded him away one day
To Spanish-American War.
He promised me he’d write to me,
This promise he kept true;
The last words he ever wrote
Was, “Soon be home to you.”
I read it with a cheerful mind
And with a bowed down head.
The next message I received
My darling boy was dead.
I’ll always keep this little ring
And his letters too.
I’ll always live a single girl
For the boy who was so true.
November 1967 Lower Creek Lenoir, NC
I Wish I Was A Mole In The Ground
Oh, I wish I was a mole in the ground,
I wish I was a mole in the ground.
If I was a mole in the ground, I’d root this mountain down,
I wish I was a mole in the ground.
I don’t like a railroad man,
I don’t like a railroad man.
A railroad man, he will kill you if he can
And drink up your blood like wine.
Oh, Tampy wants a nine dollar shawl,
Oh, Tampy wants a nine dollar shawl.
When I come over the hill with a forty dollar bill,
It’s, “Honey, where you been so long?
Oh Tampy, where you been so long?
Oh Tampy, where you been so long?
“I’ve been in the bend with the rough and rowdy men”
Oh Tampy, where you been so long?
“Oh Tampy, let your hair hang down,
Oh Tampy, let your hair hang down.
Let your hair hang down and your bangs all curl around,
Oh Tampy, let your hair hang down.
Oh, I wish I was a lizard in the spring,
I wish I was a lizard in the spring.
If I was a lizard in the spring I’d hear my darling sing,
I wish I was a lizard in the spring.
June 18, 1973
Cosby, Tennessee
I Went To The River
I went to the river and couldn’t get across,
I swapped my mule for an old grey hoss.
I jumped in and he couldn’t swim,
So I said, “Go, grey Jim.”
Darling Cora
Wake up, wake up, darling Cora,
What makes you sleep so sound?
The highway robbers are a coming,
They got your bed surrounded.
I went to meeting last Sunday,
Darling Cora, she was there.
The only change I saw in darling Cora,
Was the roll in her long, curly hair.
I’ll give you a ring, darling Cora,
To wear on your little left hand.
When I am dead and buried
Please change it to your right hand.
Last night as I lay on my pillow,
Last night as I lay on my bed.
Last night as I lay on my pillow
I dreamed darling Cora was dead.
The next time I saw darling Cora
She had a dram glass in her hand;
Drinking away her troubles
And going with a gambling man.
Wake up, wake up, darling Cora,
What makes you sleep so sound?
The robbers they are a coming,
The sun is almost down.
The next time I saw darling Cora
She was setting on the banks of the sea,
With two forty fours stropped around her body
And a banjo on her knee.
Go `way, go `way, darling Cora,
Stop hanging around my bed.
Pretty women’s run me crazy,
Corn liquor’s killed me dead.
The last time I saw darling Cora,
She was on the east bound train.
And the next time I saw darling Cora
She was wearing the ball and chain.
Don’t you hear the blue birds a singing?
Don’t you hear that lonesome sound?
They’re preaching Cora’s funeral
In some lonesome graveyard ground.
Go and dig a hole in the meadow,
Go and dig a hole in the ground.
Go and dig a hole in the meadow
To lay this poor gambler down.
August 31, 1972
Meet Me Tonight in the Moonlight
I wish I had someone to love me,
Someone to call me their own.
Oh, I wish I had someone to live with,
For I’m tired of living alone.
Refrain
Meet me tonight, sweetheart, meet me,
Meet me out in the moonlight alone,
For I have a sad story to tell you,
Must be told in the moonlight alone.
If I had the wings of an angel
Far away to the heavens I would fly.
I’d fly to the arms of my darling
And there I’d be willing to die.
Oh, it’s sad to be locked up in prison,
Oh, it’s sad to be locked up alone
With these cold iron bars all around me
And a pillow that’s made of a stone.
If I had a little ship on the ocean,
Loaded with silver and gold;
But, before my little darling should suffer
That ship would be anchored and sold.
Maw Maw Phillips
Lenoir, NC
1972
Bonnie Blue Eyes
Bye bye, little Bonnie blue eyes,
Bye bye, little Bonnie blue eyes,
You’re mine if you live, you’re mine if you die,
You’re my little Bonnie blue eyes.
Don’t cry, little Bonnie, don’t cry,
Don’t cry, little Bonnie, don’t cry,
For if you cry you’ll spoil your sweet blue eyes,
Don’t cry, little Bonnie, don’t cry.
Come home, little Bonnie, come home,
Come home, little Bonnie, come home,
You’re mine if you live, you’re mine if you die,
You’re my little Bonnie blue eyes.
My trunks done packed and gone,
My trunks done packed and gone,
My trunks done packed, it’ll never come back.
Goodbye, little Bonnie, goodbye.
I’ll see you again someday,
I’ll see you again someday,
I’ll see you again but the Lord He knows when,
Goodbye, little Bonnie blue eyes.
I’m going out West next Fall,
I’m going out West next Fall,
I’m going out West where times is best,
Goodbye, little Bonnie blue eyes.
Goodbye, little Bonnie, goodbye,
Goodbye, little Bonnie, goodbye.
You’ve told me more lies than the stars in the skies,
Goodbye, little Bonnie, goodbye.
November 1967
Lower Creek
Lenoir, NC
Sinful To Flirt
They say it is sinful to flirt,
They tell me my heart’s made of stone.
They tell me to speak to him kindly
Or leave the poor boy alone.
Oh, they say he is only a boy,
I’m sure he is older than me.
If the old folks would leave us alone,
How happy, how happy we’d both be.
I remember the night when he said
He loved me far more than his life.
He called me his darling, his pet
And asked me to be his dear wife.
“Oh darling,” I said with a smile,
“I’m sure I’ll have to say no.“
In rising, he gave me his hand,
And said, “Darling, I must go.”
“Oh Katie, why do you say no?
Oh, is your heart made of stone?”
He took from my hair a white rose
And left me a standing alone.
Next morning his body was found
Down by the pond at the mill.
By the river of life that runs
Down at the foot of the hill.
His eyes were forever closed,
His brow was damp and fair.
He held in his lips a white rose
Which he had took from my hair.
Oh Willie, my darling, come back,
I’ll ever be kind to you.
Oh Willie, my darling, come back,
I’ll ever be loving to you.
Maw Maw Phillips
November 1967
Shortening Bread
Two little niggers lying in the bed,
Heels cracked open like shortening bread.
Heels cracked open like shortening bread,
Heels cracked open like shortening bread.
Don’t my baby love shortening, shortening,
Don’t my baby love shortening bread?
Put on the skillet, put on the led (lid),
Mama’s gonna bake some shortening bread.
Mama’s gonna bake some shortening, shortening,
Mama’s gonna bake some shortening bread.
Sambo’s sick and Sambo’s dead,
Broke my fiddle over Sambo’s head.
Broke my fiddle over Sambo’s head,
Broke my fiddle over Sambo’s head.
The very last words that Sambo said,
“My whole family loves shortening bread.”
My whole family loves shortening, shortening,
My whole family loves shortening bread.”
Johnny Get Your Hair Cut Short Like Mine
Johnny get your hair cut short like mine,
Johnny get your hair cut short like mine.
Johnny get your hair cut short like mine.
Just like mine.
Bull frog’s jumped in the bottom of the well.
Swore, by God, he’d gone to hell.
Round Is The Ring
Round is the ring that has no end.
How hard it is to find a friend;
But when you find one just and true
Don’t change the old one for the new.
Refrain
Bring back my blue eyed boy to me,
Bring back my blue eyed boy to me.
Bring back my blue eyed boy to me
And I’ll forever happy be.
Last night my lover promised me
He’d take me across the dark blue sea.
But now he’s gone and left me alone,
Poor orphan girl without a home.
There is a place in this old town,
My love goes there and he sits down.
He takes that other girl on his knee
And tells her the things that he once told me.
Must I go bound while he goes free?
Must I love a boy that don’t love me?
Or must I act a childish part
And love a boy that broke my heart?
When I am sleeping `neath the sod
And o’er my head the willows weep;
T’is then, dear friend, and not before
That I will think of you no more.
1972
Somebody’s Tall And Handsome
Somebody’s tall and handsome,
Somebody’s eyes are blue.
Somebody’s hair is very dark,
Somebody’s kind and true.
Somebody came to see me,
Somebody came last night.
Somebody asked me to marry,
And of course I said alright.
Somebody called for papa,
Papa went out to see.
He came back with a smile on his face,
Glad to get rid of me.
Somebody called for mama,
Mama went out to see.
She came back with a tear in her eyes,
Somebody asked for me.
There’s going to be a wedding,
It’s gonna be in the Fall.
So, boys and girls get ready,
I’m gonna invite you all.
January 39, 1972
Oh, Girls Turn Down The Drinking Man
Oh, girls turn down the drinking man,
You know you may, you know you can.
For many a girl is sad today
Who wish with papa they had stayed.
MawMaw couldn’t remember any more of this , but she said it was part of a longer song.
I asked her if it was part of “The Drunkards Hell”, but she didn’t think it was. It does however, have the same tune or one very similar. Glenn Massey, formerly of Waynesville, NC and Robbinsville, sang this verse as part of his version of “The Drunkard’s Hell.”
Careless Love
It’s love, oh love, oh, careless love,
Love, oh love, oh careless love.
Love, oh love, oh careless love,
To love someone that don’t love you.
It’s gone and broke this heart of mine,
It’s gone and broke this heart of mine.
It’s gone and broke this heart of mine,
It’ll break that heart of yours sometime.
It’s when I wore my aprons low,
When I wore my aprons low.
When I wore my aprons low,
You’d follow me through rain and snow.
It’s now my apron strings won’t pin,
Now my apron strings won’t pin.
Now my apron strings won’t pin,
You pass my door and you won’t come in.
It’s I cried last night and the night before,
I cried last night and the night before.
I cried last night and the night before,
Gonna cry tonight and then I’ll cry no more.
It’s how I wish that train would come,
How I wish that train would come.
How I wish that train would come
And take me back where I come from.
I love my mama and papa too,
I love my mama and papa too.
I love my mama and papa too,
I’d leave them both for loving you.
Now, you see what careless love can do.
You see what careless love can do.
Now, you see what careless love can do,
Make you kill yourself and your sweetheart too.
Many a poor girl has left her home,
Many a poor girl has left her home.
Many a poor girl has left her home
For love, oh love, oh careless love.
Maw Maw Phillips
Lenoir, NC
August 30, 1972
Thinking Tonight Of My Blue Eyes
Oh, I am thinking tonight of my blue eyes
Who is sailing far over the sea.
Oh, I’m thinking tonight of my blue eyes,
And I wonder if he ever thinks of me.
Oh, you told me once, dear, that you loved me
And you said that we never would part.
But, a link in the chain has been broken,
Leaving me with a sad and broken heart.
Oh, it would been better for us both had we never
In this wide, wicked world never met.
For the pleasure we both seen together
I am sure, love, I’ll never forget.
Oh, meet me tonight, sweetheart, meet me,
Meet me out in the moonlight alone.
For I have a sad story to tell you,
Must be told by the moonlight alone.
1972
Little Mohee
As I went out sailing for pleasure, one day,
In sweet recreation to pass time away.
As I sat amusing myself on the grass,
Oh, who should I spy but a fair Indian lass?
This was all MawMaw could remember of “The Little Mohee.”
A Package Of Old Letters
There’s a package of old letters
In a little rosewood box,
With the key tied to this locket
Worn upon my heart unlocks.
Will you go and get them, sister?
And the letters read to me?
For oft times I’ve tried to read them,
But, for tears I could not see.
You have brought them, thank you, darling,
Now sit down upon my bed
And press gently to your bosom
My poor aching, throbbing head.
When I’m dead and in my coffin,
And my friends all standing `round,
And my little bed is ready
For the cold and silent ground.
Take the letters and the locket,
Place them gently o’er my heart.
But, the little ring he gave me
From my finger never part.
Tell him that I always loved him,
Seemed to me he proved untrue.
Tell him that I’ll ne’er forget him
Till I bid this world adieu.
And if you have ever finished,
I would gently fall asleep,
Fall asleep to wake with Jesus,
Dearest sister, do not weep.
November 1967
Lenoir, NC
He Was Once Some Mother’s Boy
As I strolled along one morning
On a cold, dark winter’s day,
I saw an old man staggering
And his hair was long and grey.
His clothes were old and tattered,
On his face no light of joy,
And I thought as I stood and watched him,
He was once some mothers boy.
Refrain
Once he played with happy children,
Once his heart was light and gay.
Once he knelt beside his mother
And she taught him how to pray.
Now his steps are slow and feeble,
On his face no light of joy,
And I thought as I stood and watched him,
He was once some mothers boy.
In a grave somewhere out yonder
Where the pretty daisies grow,
Lies a silent form, now sleeping,
And the night winds whisper low.
The moon is softly shining
And the grass waves to and fro;
Tis the grave of his old mother,
The one who loved her so.
Let us treat the old man kindly
As we walk life’s weary way.
While we now are young and happy,
We will all be old someday.
Though his clothes be old and tattered,
On his face no light of joy;
Yet, to us it does not matter,
He was once some mothers boy.
I found this among some of Maw Maw’s song ballets. I don’t recollect ever hearing her sing it, but the words are touching and sweet.
Billie Boy
Oh, where have you been, Billie boy, Billie boy?
Oh, where have you been, charming Billie?
I have been to seek a wife, she’s the pleasure of my life,
She’s a young girl and cannot leave her mammy.
Did she bid you to come in, Billie boy, Billie boy?
Did she bid you to come in, charming Billie?
Yes, she bid me to come in, she has whiskers on her chin,
She’s a young girl and cannot leave her mammy.
Did she set you out a chair, Billie boy, Billie boy?
Did she set you out a chair, charming Billie?
Yes, she set me out a chair, she has ringlets in her hair,
She’s a young girl and cannot leave her mammy.
Can she card and can she spin, Billie boy, Billie boy?
Can she card and can she spin, charming Billie?
She can card and she can spin, she can do most anything,
She’s a young girl and cannot leave her mammy.
Can she cook and can she sew, Billie boy, Billie boy?
Can she cook and can she sew, charming Billie?
She can cook and she can sew just as fast as she can go,
She’s a young girl and cannot leave her mammy.
Can she bake a chicken pie, Billie boy, Billie boy?
Can she bake a chicken pie, charming Billie?
She can bake a chicken pie quick as a cat can wink its eye,
She’s a young girl and cannot leave her mammy.
Can she row the boat ashore, Billie boy, Billie boy?
Can she row the boat ashore, charming Billie?
She can row the boat ashore and about a dozen more,
She’s a young girl and cannot leave her mammy.
How tall is she, Billie boy, Billie boy?
How tall is she charming Billie?
She’s as tall as a pine and as slim as a pumpkin vine,
She’s a young girl and cannot leave her mammy.
How old is she, Billie boy, Billie boy?
How old is she charming Billie?
Twice six, twice seven, twenty eight and eleven,
She’s a young girl and cannot leave her mammy.
This is as close to my memory of Maw Maw’s singing of this song as I can get.
I didn’t write down the words as she sang it or record it. As a child in school we used to sing this so much that it never occurred to me to record it when Maw Maw sang it. As I recall, her tune was slightly different than the way we sang it in school. Sometimes in looking for big things it’s easy to miss or take for granted little things that might be jewels as bright as any.
Roaming Gambler
I am a roaming gambler, I gambled down in town,
Whenever I met with a deck of cards
I laid my money down, laid my money down.
I went down to Washington, not many more weeks than three,
Till I fell in love with a pretty little girl
And she fell in love with me, she fell in love with me.
She took me in her parlor, she cooled me with her fan,
She whispered low, in her mothers ear,
“I love that gambling man, I love that gambling man,”
“Dear daughter, oh, dear daughter,
How can you treat me so, to leave your poor old mother
And with the gambler go, and with the gambler go?”
“Oh mother, oh, dear mother, you know I love you well,
But the love I have for the gambling man
No human tongue can tell, no human tongue can tell.”
I hear the train a coming,
A coming `round the curve,
A whistling and a blowing and straining every nerve, and straining every nerve.
“Oh mother, oh, dear mother, I’ll tell you if I can,
If you ever see me coming back again
I’ll be with the gambling man, be with the gambling man.”
Oh Where Is My Sweetheart?
Oh, where is my sweetheart? I am sure I can’t tell,
I’m sure I can’t tell, I’m sure I can’t tell.
Oh, where is my sweetheart? I am sure I can’t tell,
He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone.
He told me that he loved me and he told me a lie,
He told me a lie, he told me a lie.
He told me that he loved me and he told me a lie,
He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone.
I told him I loved him and I told him the truth,
I told him the truth, I told him the truth.
I told him I loved him and I told him the truth,
He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone.
God bless him I love him and I wish he was here,
I wish he was here, I wish he was here.
God bless him I love him and I wish he was here,
He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone.
Well, now I am married and it’s cornbread and peas,
It’s cornbread and peas, it’s cornbread and peas.
Well, now I am married and it’s cornbread and peas,
He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone.
1968
I Come Home The Other Night
I come home the other night as drunk as I could be.
I found a horse standing in the stable where my horse ought to be.
“Come here my little wifey, `splain this thing to me
How come a horse a standing in the stable where my horse ought to be?”
“You old fool, you blind fool, can’t you never see?
That’s only a milk cow my granny sent to me.”
I traveled and I traveled many miles or more,
A saddle on a milk cow’s back I never did see before.
I come home the other night as drunk as I could be.
I found a hat a hanging on the rack where my hat ought to be.
“Come here, my little wifey, `splain this thing to me.
How come a hat a hanging on the rack where my hat ought to be?
“You old fool, you blind fool, can’t you never see?
That’s only a chamber pot my granny sent to me.”
I traveled and I traveled many miles or more,
But a John B. Stetson chamber pot I never did see before..
I come home the other night as drunk as I could be.
I found a shirt hanging on the rack where my shirt ought to be.
“Come here my little wifey, `splain this thing to me.
How come a shirt a hanging on the rack where my shirt ought to be?”
“You old fool, you blind fool, can’t you never see?
That’s only a quilt top my granny sent to me.”
I traveled and I traveled many miles or more,
Buttons on a quilt top I never did see before.
I come home the other night as drunk as I could be,
I found pants a laying on the chair where my pants ought to be.
“Come here my little wifey, `splain this thing to me.
How come pants a laying on the chair where my pants ought to be?”
“You old fool, you blind fool, can’t you never see?
That’s only a dish rag my granny sent to me.”
I traveled and I traveled many miles or more,
A zipper on a dish rag I never did see before.
I come home the other night as drunk as I could be,
I found a head a laying on the pillow where my head ought to be.
“Come here my little wifey, `splain this thing to me.
How come a head a laying on the pillow where my head ought to be?”
“You old fool, you blind fool, can’t you never see?
That’s only a cabbage head my granny sent to me.”
I traveled and I traveled many miles or more,
A moustache on a cabbage head I never did see before.
The Crow Is Black
The crow is black you know, my love,
It surely would turn white.
If ever I prove false to you
Bright day will turn to night.
Bright day will turn to night, my love,
Believe me what I say.
You are the darling of my heart
Until my dying day.
Until my dying day.
Oh, who will make your bed, my love?
And who will dress it neat?
And who will hold you in their arms
If you, no more I see?
If you no more I see.
I wish I were ten thousand miles,
Or on some distant shore,
Or down in some lone valley place
Where the wild beasts howl and roar.
Where the wild beasts howl and roar.
1972
The Drunkard's Hell
Twas on a dark and starless night
I saw and heard an awful sight;
I thought I seen a gulf below
Where all poor, dying drunkards go.
I started on, got there at last,
I thought I’d take a social glass.
I picked it up and stirred it well
Until I thought of a drunkards hell.
I dashed it out and left the place
And sought to find redeeming grace.
The very moment grace begun
Ten thousand joys within me sprung.
I started home to change my life
With my long neglected wife.
I found her weeping by the bed
Because her little babe was dead.
I told her not to mourn nor weep,
Her little babe was just asleep.
It’s little soul had fled away
To dwell with Christ in endless day.
I took her by her pale white hand;
She was so weak she could not stand.
I laid her down and breathed a prayer
That God might bless and save us there.
I started on to Temperance Hall
To make a pledge with them all.
They met me with a welcome hand
And took me in their Temperance band.
Five sober years have flown away
Since first I bowed my head to pray.
And now I lead a better life
With a good home and a loving wife.
1972
My Dear Sweetheart
Dark is the color of my true loves hair,
His cheeks are like some rosy fair.
The sweetest face and the neatest hands;
I love the ground whereon he stands.
I love my love and well he knows
I love the ground whereon he goes.
If you no more on earth I see,
I wouldn’t serve you like you did me.
The winter’s passed, the leaves are green;
The time is passed that we have been.
But yet I hope the time will come
When you and I will be as one.
My dear sweetheart, so fare you well,
You slighted me but I wish you well.
If you, on earth no more I see,
I wouldn’t treat you like you did me.
I’ll go to Christ for to mourn and weep,
But, satisfied I cannot sleep.
You turned me away and broke my heart.
Oh, how can I from you depart?
My dear sweetheart, my harmless dove,
I hope we’ll meet in a world above,
And there in peace forever to dwell,
My dear sweetheart, so fare you well.
A many an hour I’ve spent with you;
But I never knew you was not true.
I’ve found it out, I cried aloud,
And I must die in all this crowd.
You are all for this to blame,
That I must die in grief and shame.
But, after death I will go home,
You’ll think of me, you’ve done me wrong.
The pain of love no tongue can tell,
No mind can think, no heart can sell;
But I’ll tell you in a few short lines,
It’s worse than death ten thousand times.
Come all sweethearts from east to west,
To view my grave while I’m at rest.
Come all sweethearts from far and near,
Don’t lose your lives for they are dear.
Dear relations all around,
I’m going to Heaven to wear a crown.
And there, in peace, forever to dwell,
My dear sweetheart, so fare you well.
June 18, 1973 Newport, Tennessee
Maw Maw would usually sing the first three lines of “Dark Is he Color Of My True Loves Hair” as the beginning of this song with its quite different tune. I think, after examining it and comparing it to another folk song, sometimes called “My Dear Sweetheart”, that they are really two distinct songs although having some of the same words.
Be Home Soon Tonight My Dear Boy
One night I went home, dear mother was sick
With fever and torture and pain.
She said, “My dear boy, take this motto I give,
I never may give it again.”
Refrain
“Be home soon tonight my dear boy,
Be home soon tonight my dear boy.
When going away dear mother would say,
“Be home soon tonight my dear boy.”
And when I returned from my nice world of fun
I found that dear mother was dead.
`T was then the cold chills through my body did run
When I thought of the last words she said.
So many dear boys and precious girls too,
Are grieving their parents today.
Forgetting their love and long, watchful care,
Not heeding the words that they say.
Fond Affection
Once I loved a fond affection,
Once my thoughts were all of you,
Till a blue eyed girl , she came between us,
Then you cared no more for me.
Refrain
Go and leave me if you want to,
Never let me cross your mind,
For in your heart you love another
And in my grave I’d ruther be.
We have met and we have parted,
We have spoke our last goodbye,
For you have broken the promise you made me
When we met on the mountains high.
Though I loved you, dearly loved you
More than all this world can know,
But you broke the trust you plighted,
Now you may forever go.
Here is your ring, I pray you take it,
Give it to the one you love.
My poor heart you have broken,
Oh, you know that you have sinned.
You have broke the heart you’ve cherished,
You have doomed me day by day.
You have faults, but I’ll forgive you,
But forget, I never may.
Many a night with you I’ve rambled,
Many a night with you I’ve spent.
I thought I had your heart forever,
But I found it was only lint.
Many a night while you lay sleeping,
Dreaming of the one you love,
And me, poor girl, all broken hearted,
Listening to the lonesome dove.
Poor Ellen Smith
Poor Ellen Smith, how was she found?
With a ball through her heart lying cold on the ground.
Poor Ellen Smith, true as a dove,
Where did she ramble, who did she love?
Nobody’s Darling On Earth
Out in this old world alone,
Walking about in the street;
Asking for pennies and bread,
Begging for something to eat.
Penniless, friendless, and poor,
Nothing but sorrow I see.
I’m nobody’s darling,
Nobody cares for me.
Often at night when I kneel,
Lifting my sorrowful eyes;
Asking my mother to smile
Down on her child from the skies.
Then I forget all my grief.
Mother in Heaven I see.
There I’ll be somebody’s darling,
Somebody will care for me.
January 30, 1972
The Sweetest Thing I Ever Done
The sweetest thing I ever done,
I served the Lord when I was young.
I’m happy, I’m happy, oh, may the Lord continue with me.
I do believe without a doubt
That Christians have a right to shout.
I’m happy, I’m happy, oh, may the Lord continue with me.
I’ve never been there, but I’ve been told
The gates are pearl and the streets are gold.
I’m happy, I’m happy, oh, may the Lord continue with me.
If you get there before I do
Just tell my friends I’m a coming too.
I’m happy, I’m happy, oh may the Lord continue with me.
Roaming Gambler
I am a roaming gambler, I gambled down in town,
Whenever I met with a deck of cards
I laid my money down, laid my money down.
I went down to Washington, not many more weeks than three,
Till I fell in love with a pretty little girl
And she fell in love with me, she fell in love with me.
She took me in her parlor, she cooled me with her fan,
She whispered low, in her mother's ear,
“I love that gambling man, I love that gambling man,”
“Dear daughter, oh, dear daughter,
How can you treat me so, to leave your poor old mother
And with the gambler go, and with the gambler go?”
“Oh mother, oh, dear mother, you know I love you well,
But the love I have for the gambling man
No human tongue can tell, no human tongue can tell.”
I hear the train a coming,
A coming `round the curve,
A whistling and a blowing and straining every nerve, and straining every nerve.
“Oh mother, oh, dear mother, I’ll tell you if I can,
If you ever see me coming back again
I’ll be with the gambling man, be with the gambling man.”
I Wish I was A Single Girl Again
Oh, when I was single, for marriage did I crave,
Now I am married, Lord, it’s troubled to my grave.
Lord, don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
Lord, don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
When I was single, my shoes they did squeak,
Now I am married, my shoes they do leak.
Lord, don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
Lord, don’t I wash I was a single girl again?
When I was single, I eat biscuits and pie,
Now I am married, it’s eat cornbread or die.
Lord, don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
Don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
When I was single I dressed mighty fine.
Now I am married, Lord, go ragged all the time.
Lord, don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
Lord, don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
It’s clothes to wash and spring to go to,
When you are married, Lord, you’ve got it all to do.
Lord, don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
Lord, don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
Two little babies a crying for bread,
With none to give them I wish I was dead.
Lord, don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
Don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
Wash the young-uns and send them to school.
Along comes a drunkard and calls them a fool.
Lord, don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
Lord, don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
When my husband comes home it’s a fuss and a row,
Them blame little babies are all crying now.
Lord, don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
Don’t I wish I was a single girl again? 1972
Come In Little Stranger
“Come in, little stranger,” I said
As she stepped at my half opened door,
With a blanket pinned over her head,
Just reached from the basket she bore.
A look full of innocent and modest
Fell from her pretty blue eyes
As she said, I’ve matches to sell
And hope you are willing to buy.
“A penny a bunch is the price,
I hope you’ll not find it too much.
They’re tied up so even and nich
And ready to light at a touch.”
“I asked, “What’s your name, little girl?”
“Mary”. She said, “Mary Dow”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“My father was lost in the deep,
The ship never got to the shore.
My mother is sad and will weep
To hear the wind blow and sea roar.”
She sits there beside
Her poor sick Willie’s bed.
She paid all the money for food
So, I’ll sell matches for bread.”
“Fly home, little birdie, fly home,
Full of innocent to your nest,”
I took all the matches she had,
And Mary may tell you the rest.”
1967
Lower Creek
Lenoir, NC
Two Little Children
Two Little Children, a boy and a girl
Sat by an old church door.
The little girls feet were as brown as the curl
That fell on the dress she wore.
The little boy’s cot was all tattered annd torn,
And tears shone in his bright eyres.
“Why don’t you run home to your mama?” I said,
And this was the maiden’s reply.
“Mama’s in heaven, angels took her away,
Left Jim and I all alone.
We came here to sleep at the close of the day
”For we have no mama, nor home.”
“Papa was lost in the sea long ago,
We waited all night on the shore,
For he was a life saving captain, you know,
But he never came home any more.”
“Then mama got sick, angels took her away,
They said to a home warm and bright.
She said she’d return for her darlings someday,
Perhaps she is coming tonight.”
“We can’t earn our bread, we’re too little,” she said.
“Jim’s five and I’m only seven.
We have no one to love us since papa is dead
And our darling mama’s in Heaven.”
The sexton came early to ring the church bells,
He found them beneath the snow, white.
For the angels made room for two orphans to dwell
In Heaven with mama that night.”
After The Ball
A little girl climbed on an old man’s knee,
Begged for a story, “Do, uncle, please.
Why are you single, why you live alone?
Have you no babies, have you no home?”
“I had a sweetheart long years ago,
Where she is now, pet, you soon will know.
Listen to my story, I’ll tell it all;
I broke her heart, pet, after the ball.”
Refrain
After the ball is over, after the break of dawn,
After the dancer’s leaving, after the stars are gone.
Many a heart was aching, if we but knew it all;
Many a hope had vanished after the ball.
“Bright lights were flashing in the grand ball room.
Softly the music played a sweet tune.
There stood my sweetheart, my love, my own;
Give me some water, leave me alone.”
“When I came back, pet, there stood a man,
Kissing my sweetheart as lovers can.
Down fell the glass, pet, broken, that’s all,
Just as my heart was after the ball.”
“Long years passed by, pet, I never wed,
True to my sweetheart though she was dead.
She tried to tell me, tied to explain,
I wouldn’t listen, pleadings in vain.”
“One day a letter came from that man.
He was her brother, so the letter ran.
That’s why I’m single, you know it all,
I broke her heart, pet, after the ball.”
November 1967
Lower Creek
Lenoir, NC
The Wedding Bells Were Ringing
The wedding bells were ringing on a moonlight winter’s night.
The church was decorated all within was gay and bright.
A mother with her baby came and saw the lights aglow.
She thought of how those same bells chimed for her three years ago.
“I’d like to be admitted, siir,” she begged the sexton old.
“Just for the sake of baby, to protect him from the cold.”
But he told her that the wedding was for the rich and the grand.
And with the eager, anxious crowd outside she’d have to stand.
Refrain
While the wedding bells were ringing, while the bride and groom were there,
Marching up the aisle together as the organ pealed an air.
Telling tales of warm affection, vowing never more to part.
Just another fatal wedding, just another broken heart.
She begged the sexton once again to let her step inside.
“For baby’s sake you may come in,” the grey haired man replied.
“If anyone knows reason why this couple should not wed,
Speak now, or else, forever hold your peace,” the preacher said.
“I must object,” the woman cried, her voice so meek and mild.
“The bridegroom is my husband, sir, and this our little child.”
”What proof have you?” the preacher asked, “My baby, sir,” she cried.
And knelt to pray to God in Heaven, the little one had died.
Refrain
The parents of the bride then took the outcast by the arm.
“We’ll care for you through life,” they said, “You’ve saved our child from harm.”
The parents, bride , and outcast wife in a carriage rolled away,
The bridegroom died by his own hand before the break of day.
No wedding feast was spread that night, two graves were made next day.
In one the little baby and in one the father lay.
The story has been oft times told by firesides warm and bright,
Of bride and groom and outcast wife and that fatal wedding night. 1972
Come Brethren and Sisters
Come brethren and sisters and hear me relate,
And I will inform you of my present stare.
Though oft I have called sweet Jesus my own,
I now feel dejected, like one left alone.
How backward in duty, how lifeless I be;
The smiles of my Savior how seldom I see.
I scarcely in Zion can raise a sweet song.
My harp on the willows now seems to be hung.
I know prayer’s a duty I owe to my Lord,
It is enjoin-ed in His holy word.
But, when I attempt it I’ve no heart to pray.
My thoughts are so wandering and oft times astray.
When I read the scriptures, instructions to gain,
Tis but a small portion that I can retain.
They seem so mysterious, so dark to my view,
I can’t understand them as I wish to do.
In all my performance, how short I do fall.
I’m pining, I languish, and barren withal.
I seem like a tree that encumbers the ground.
The leaves make appearance, but no fruit is found.
My moments are lonesome, small comfort I find;
Dark clouds hover o’er me and darken my mind.
This cold, dreary winter with tempest do blow;
I’m chilled with the cold and in darkness I go.
Disperse this thick darkness, oh Jesus, my friend,
And cause this cold winter in summer to end.
Thy souls cheering presence to me now restore
And give me my harp from the willows once more.
Lily White Robe
I’m only a pilgrim here below
While journeying through this desert sand.
But, after awhile, oh yes, I know
I’ll wear a white robe in the glory land.
Refrain
I’ll wear a white robe, I’ll wear a white robe,
And sing with the angel band.
Just inside the gate where loved ones wait
I’ll wear a white robe in glory land.
My Bible tells me the Lord has gone `fore me
To prepare a mansion grand.
So, trusting in Him, I’ll follow on,
I’ll wear a white robe in glory land.
Though often on te way I weary grow,
A hidden man seem His guiding hand.
His child He will not forsake,
I’ll wear a white robe in glory land.
Though only a beggar I may be all bleeding,
And sore my feet and hand.
The Father above has promised me
I’ll wear a white robe in glory land.
Maw Maw sent me the song ballet of this in the mail. She said she learned this from her son-in-laws father at Oak Ridge, Tennessee. He was very old when he sang it for her. She said he was sick and sang pitifully, but that the tune was very pretty. The man was a Holy Roller and learned the sonng long ago.
While Nature Was Sinking
While nature was sinking in stillness to rest,
The last beams of sunlight shone dim in the west;
O’er fields by the moonlight my wandering feet
Sought in quietude’s hour a place of retreat.
While passing a garden, I paused, then drew near,
A voice faint and plaintive arrested my ear;
The voice of the sufferer affected my heart,
In agony pleading the poor sinner’s part.
In offering to Heaven his pitying prayer,
He spoke of the torments the sinner must bear;
His life, for a ransom He offered to give,
That sinners redeemed in glory might live.
So deep were His sorrows, so fervent His prayer,
That down o’er His bosom rolled sweat, blood and tears;
I wept to behold Him, I asked Him His name,
He answered `tis Jesus, from Heaven I came.
I am thy redeemer, for thee I must die,
This cup is most bitter but cannot pass by;
Thy sins like a mountain are laid upon me,
And all this deep anguish I suffer for thee.
I heard with deep anguish the tale of His woe,
While tears like a fountain of waters did flow;
The cause of His sorrow to hear Him repeat,
Affected my heart and I fell at His feet.
I trembled with horror and loudly did cry,
Lord, save a poor sinner, O, save or I die;
He smiled when He saw me, and said to me, live,
Thy sins, which are many, I freely forgive.
How sweet was that moment He bade me rejoice;
His smile, O, how pleasant, how charming His voice.
I fled from the garden to spread it abroad,
I shouted salvation and glory to God.
I’m now on my journey to mansions above,
My soul’s full of glory, of light, peace and love;
I think of the garden, the prayers and the tears
Of that loving Saviour who banished my fears.
The day of bright glory is rolling around,
When Gabriel descending, the trumpet shall sound,
My soul then in rapture of glory shall rise,
To gaze on the Saviour with unclouded eyes.
My Head And Stay Is Called Away
My head and stay is called away,
And I am left alone;
My husband dear, who was so near,
Is fled away and gone.
It breaks my heart, `tis hard to part
With one who was so kind;
Where shall I go to vent my smart,
Or ease my troubled mind?
In wisdom’s ways we spent our days,
Much comfort we did find;
And he is gone, in dust he lays,
And I am left behind.
Naught can I find to ease my mind,
In things which are below;
For earthly toys but vex my joys,
And aggravate my woe.
But I’ll repair to Jesus, where
I’ll ease my troubled breast;
To Christ above, who is my Lord,
And my eternal rest.
And, O, that He would send for me,
And call my spirit home,
To worlds of rest, among the blest
Where troubles never come.
This was usually sung at a husband's funeral.
Come My Dear Friends
Come, my dear friends, and mourn with me,
In my afflicted state;
I am bereaved, as you may see.
Of my dear loving mate.
Her heart was bound with mine by love,
Good works for to maintain;
But she is gone to Christ above,
Forever there to reign.
My loss is great, to lose my mate;
I’m like the lonesome dove;
I’ll go alone, and sigh, and mourn
My dear and absent love.
My children cry, no mother by
To take them on her knee;
The breach is great, it doth create
Much grief, as all may see.
But why should I lament my case,
Since God hath thought it best
To take her soul from hence away
To its eternal rest?
Since it is so, let sorrows go;
My God hath sent His rod.
He doth His will, I must be still,
And know that He is God.
This song was for the wife, as the words make evident.
Alas How Changed That Lovely Flower
Alas, how changed that lovely flower
Which bloomed and cheered my heart;
Fair, fleeting comfort of an hour,
How soon we’re called to part.
And shall my bleeding heart arraign
That God, whose ways are love,
Or vainly cherish anxious pain
For her who rests above.
No, let me rather humbly pay
Obedience to His will,
And with my inmost spirit say,
“The Lord is righteous still.”
From adverse blasts and lowering storms
Her favored soul He bore;
And with yon bright, angelic forms,
She lives to die no more.
Why should I vex my heart, or fast?
No more she’ll visit me;
My soul will mount to her at last,
And there my child I’ll see.
Prepare me, blessed Lord, to share
The bliss Thy people prove;
Who round thy glorious throne appears,
And dwell in perfect love.
This, of course, was sung at the funeral of a child.
When Those We Love Are Snatched Away
When those we love are snatched away
By death’s resistless hand,
Our hearts the mournful tribute pay
Which pity must demand.
While pity prompts the rising sigh,
O, may this truth impressed
With awful power, I too, must die,
Sink deep in every breast.
Let this vain world engage no more;
Behold the gaping tomb.
It bids us seize the present hour,
Tomorrow death may come.
The voice of this alarming scene
May every heart obey;
Nor be the heavenly warning vain
Which calls to watch and pray.
O, let us fly, to Jesus fly,
Whose powerful arm can save;
Then shall our hopes ascend on high,
And triumph o’er the grave.
Great God, Thy sovereign grace impart,
With cleansing, healing power;
This only can prepare the heart
For death’s surprising hour.
This song was for departing friends.
The Old Church Yard
Oh, come, come with me, to the old church yard,
I well know the path through the soft green sward;
Friends slumber there, we were wont to regard,
And we’ll trace out their names, in the old church yard.
Oh, mourn not for them, their grief is o’er,
Weep not for them, they weep no more,
For deep is their sleep, though cold and hard,
Their pillows may be in the old church yard.
I know it seems vain when friends depart,
To speak kind words to the broken heart.
I know that the joys of life seem marred
When we follow their steps to the old church yard.
But were I at rest, beneath yon tree,
Why should you weep, dear friend, for me?
It’s I am way worn and sad, oh, why then retard
The rest that I seek in the old church yard?
It’s our friends linger there, in the sweetest repose,
Released from the world’s sad bereavements and woes;
And where should I rest with the friends I regard
In quietude sweet in the old church yard ?
It’s we’ll rest in the hope of that bright day
When beauty shall spring from the prisons of clay,
When Gabriel’s voice and the trump of the Lord,
Shall awaken the dead in the old church yard.
It’s oh, weep not for me for I’m ready to go
To that heavenly rest where no tears ever flow.
It’s I fear not to enter that dark, lonely ward;
For soon I shall rise from the old church yard.
Yes, soon I shall join that heavenly band
Of glorified souls at my Savior’s right Hand;
Forever to dwell in bright mansions prepared
For saints, who shall rise from the old church yard.
I was working on a notebook of Maw Maw’s songs in October, 1980 and had written the words to “The Old Church Yard”, when, a few days later, my cousin, Janette McMillon, one of Maw Maw’s grand daughters called to tell me that Maw Maw had died. She was in the Maryville, Tennessee Hospital, when, while going to the bathroom she fell in the floor. A blood clot set up and in a few minutes she had a heart attack. She was crying,
“The bees, the bees are stinging.” It was the pain in her left arm caused by the attack. I’m sure that in Maw Maw’s mind she thought she was being stung.
It seemed ironic that this happened just after I’d written down the words to this song, for it was her favorite of all the meeting house songs. Mine too. I was asked to sing at her funeral, but I couldn’t. The memory of Maw Maw Mae is still so sweet that I sometimes feel like crying.
Maw Maw learned some of her meeting house songs at the Primitive Baptist church in the McMillan Settlement, where she grew up. Later, she learned some of them at Camp meetings at Hartford, Tennessee. Of course, as the years went by and radio and phonographs came into the area she learned any number of gospel songs from the 20th century as well as country and bluegrass tunes. But it was always the older “love songs” that she cared for the most. Those, she learned from many sources. Some, she learned first from her mother, Aunt Becky Jenkins (nee Shults) who learned songs from her parents and others. Maw Maw’s half brother, Joe Fowler, taught her a couple of songs. Many others she learned from relatives and friends who would come and visit and they would go to the woods and sing for hours. Maw Maw didn’t sing much at home. Her stepfather, Dugan Jenkins, was a Civil War veteran and was very high strung. He would grab at his arms and cry, “Them go-devils is biting me.” I suppose he had been shell shocked in the war and it was his nerve endings that were the problem. Maw Maw said you couldn’t hardly read a book if Dugan was in the room; he couldn’t stand to hear the pages being turned.
Maw Maw’s mother, Rebecca Shults, was first married to Elijah “Lige” Fowler. She had two sons by him. Lige took up with Elizabeth Greene and run “Maw” (Aunt Becky) off. She, ever after would refer to her as “Ole Liz Greene, the bitch!” She tried to get the boys, Joe and , but Lige stumped her with the law. Then Aunt Becky hired herself out to a widow man, John Harrison, who lived on Lower Cosby, to make a little money. John's father, Nathaniel Harrison, was first married to my great grandfather, Anse McMillon,s sister Louise (pronounced in those days as “Lou-eyes”). After she died he married a Ball who had John and other children. John had a number of children by his wife and needed help raising them and with the housework. So Aunt Becky took them on and one thing led to another until she became pregnant with Mae and then he wouldn’t marry Aunt Becky after promising her that he would. And so, she was put out again and had Mae “by herself” as the saying goes. She then went to Newport where she got a job working at the railroad commissary taking in washing for the railroad men. As time went by she became acquainted with a young man from Morristown, Tennessee by the name of Esau Mantooth. Years later, Mae’s children would laugh about his name. Esau eventually asked Aunt Becky to marry him. He had no children of his own and promised to take care of Mae as if she was his. Aunt Becky accepted and Esau was to come to Newport on a train on a certain weekend and pick up Aunt Becky and Mae and take them back with him to Morristown. In the meantime abunch of gypsy’s came to town and Aunt Becky took Maw Maw to see them. There was a fortune teller there and Aunt Becky went in to get her fortune told. The gypsy woman told her that she would marry an old man with a grey beard who’d come walking across the mountain on a stick (walking cane) and spend her life with him. Aunt Becky laughed and said, “Why, you’re crazy! I’m going to marry a young man whose coming on a train this weekend to get me and my daughter and take us to Morristown where we’ll get married.” “That’s what I see,” was all the gypsy woman said to that. Well, it just so happened that Esau Mantooth came down with the flu or some such sickness and couldn’t make it into town that weekend as he’s promised.
They found out too late that he’d written a letter and sent it to Aunt Becky, but it didn’t get there before the end of the week, so she thought she’d been double crossed again and packed up their things and moved back to Cosby to her parents home. A short time later, a friend of the family, Mitch Sutton, brought a friend to see Aunt Becky and he came across the mountain wearing a grey beard a walking on a stick and that’s the man Aunt Becky married. His name was Wilson Dugan Jenkins. He went by Dugan and he was a veteran of the Civil War on the Union side. He was a widow man and had a bunch of kids for Aunt Becky to raise, which she did, And she never married again.
Fond Affection
Once I loved with fond affection and I thought that he loved me;
But another girl persuaded and he cares no more for me.
Refrain
Go and leave me if you wish to, never let me cross your mind;
If you think I am so unworthy, go and leave me, never mind.
Many a time while you lay sleeping, dreaming at your sweet repose;
I, poor girl, lie broken hearted listening to the wind that blows.
Many a time with you I’ve wandered, many an hour with you I’ve spent;
When I thought you was mine forever, but I’ve found your heart is bent.
Now you are happy with another, one who has more gold than I;
You have proved to be false hearted, just because I am so poor.
Farewell friends and fond relations, fare thee well my false young man;
You have caused me all this sorrow, fare thee well and never mind.
They have told you some false stories, you believed them all they say;
You have faults, but I’ll forgive you, but forget I never may.
I have written you a letter to tell you that you are free;
From this hour and forever I shall care no more for thee.
One more word and all is over, Why were you unkind to me?
Tell me why you do not love me, tell me why it cannot be.
May your life be long and happy, May your troubles be but few;
May you find a rest in Heaven when your earthly task is through.
I found this among some papers and “song ballets'' of Maw Maw Mae Phillips. Mae Shults Phillips (1900-1980) sang me a version of “Fond Affection” when I was a teenager and it was a bit different than the one in her ballet of it. However, Maw Maw loved old songs and often through the years would sometimes learn other versions of songs she knew. Folks used to write down song ballets, fold them and put them in shoe boxes for safe keeping. Then, someone would borrow them, and, as often as not, fail to return them. This had happened to Maw Maw. She would seek songs where she could find them and this may be one she copied from someone else’s ballet or even from a book, although on examination it seems to have come straight from oral tradition.
Some Verses
Here I sit on a rolling punkin,
Come and kiss my uncle Dunkin.
When I was a young man I was a bold `un,
John’s got my new coat, I got his old `un.
Here I sit on flowers and daisy’s,
If you don’t kiss me I’ll go crazy.
Some verses Maw Maw remembered from school days.
Danville Girl
I got off at Danville, got struck on a Danville girl;
You can bet your life she’s out of sight, she wore the Danville curls.
She wore her hair on the back of her head like the high toned people do,
The next train that comes along I’ll bid this girl adieu.
“Oh lady, kind lady, don’t talk to me so rough,
Don’t think that I’m a hobo because I look so tough.”
She thrower her arms around my neck, says, “I love you as a friend,
But if I give you this to eat you’ll be bumming around again.”
Maw Maw Phillips February 1972
I Heard My Mother Weeping
The big courtroom was crowded as the jury heard my plea,
“I am not guilty of this crime you are accusing me.”
I guess no one believed me for they only turned away
To tell the judge their verdict; I bowed my head to pray.
I heard my mother weeping as the judge said, “Guilty, son.
I’ll have to give you lifetime for the crime that you have done.”
She cried, “Don’t take my darling, he means the world to me.
He’s all I have to live for, I pray you’ll set him free.”
“His father was a drunkard, went away, left us alone.
I worked to keep from starving and raise my darling son.
Now, if you take him from me, his face no more I’ll see.
Just put your son in my place, his mother here with me.”
The judge sat there with head bowed down, at first did not reply,
And then I saw him wiping a teardrop from his eyes.
He motioned to the jury, “This sentence can’t be done.
God bless you, darling mother, I still love you and my son.”
Maw Maw Phillips
September 5, 1972
From a song ballet written down by Dorothy E. Jenkins
March 15, 1950
Please Mommy, Stay Home With Me
A mother went out on a party,
She left at home her baby son.
He cried and begged her not to leave him,
But she would not give up her fun.
She kissed his cheeks and tried to soothe him,
But heeded not his childish plea.
She heard him call as she was leaving,
“Please, mommy, please stay home with me.”
The mother joined the merrymakers
And soon was lost in trifling joy.
The mellow tunes and flitting shadows
Made her forget her baby boy.
She danced and laughed and did some drinking,
The world for her was full of glee.
But now and then these words would haunt her,
“Please, mommy, please stay home with me.”
She left the party feeling dizzy,
The smell of drink was on her breath.
She hurried home to find her baby
In raging pain and nearing death.
The doctor came and looked on sadly,
The case was hopeless, he could see.
The baby died, these words repeating,
“Please, mommy, please stay home with me.”
[The mother now her life would forfeit,
To hear her baby’s voice again.
She grieves to think she rudely left him
To satisfy her wishes vain.
Now mothers, don’t neglect your duty,
This story should a lesson be.
Do not ignore your baby’s pleading,
“Please, mommy, please stay home with me.”]
Maw Maw Phillips September 5, 1972
From a song ballet sung by Chester Adkins
Companion Draw Nigh
Companion, draw nigh, they say I must die,
Early the summons has come from on high.
The way is so dark and yet I must go,
Oh, such sorrow you never can know.
Refrain
Only a prayer, only a tear,
Oh, if sister and mother were here.
Only a song that would comfort and cheer,
Only a word from the Book so dear.
Oh, can you not bow and pray for me now?
Sad the regret that we never know how
To come before God who only can save,
Leading in triumph through death and the grave.
And can you not sing a song of His love?
How He came down from the mansions above
To bleed and to die on Calvary’s tree,
Bringing salvation to sinners like me.
Alas, it is so, but thus it must be,
No word of comfort or promise for me.
To die without God, or hope in His Son,
Covered in darkness, bereaved and undone.
Oh, people of God who have His blest Word,
Will you not heed the command of your Lord?
And publish to all of Adam’s lost race,
Pardon, forgiveness, salvation through Grace. 1972
Edward
“Why Ed, you look so healthy now;
You dress so neat and clean;
I never see you drunk about.
Pray, tell me where you’ve been?
Pray, tell me where you’ve been?”
“Your wife and children all are well,
You once did use them strange.
Oh, you are kinder to them now,
How came this happy change?
How came this happy change?”
“It was a dream, a warning dream,
That Heaven sent to me,’
To snatch me from the drunkard’s curse,
Grim want and misery.
Grim want and misery.”
My wages all were spent on drink;
Oh, what a wretched view;
I almost broke my Mary’s heart,
And starved my children too.
And starved my children too.”
“What was my home or wife to me?
I heeded not her cry;
Her winsome smile has welcomed me
When tears bedimmed her eye.
When tears bedimmed her eye.”
“My children, too, have oft awoke.
“Oh, father dear,” they said,
“Poor mother has been weeping so,
Because we have no bread.”
“My Mary’s form did waste away;
I saw her sunken eye.
On straw my babes in sickness lay;
I heard their wailing cry.
I heard their wailing cry.”
“I laughed and sung in drunken joy
While Mary’s tears did stream;
Then like a beast I fell asleep
And had this warning dream.
And had this warning dream.”
“I thought once more I staggered home;
There seemed a solemn gloom.
I missed my wife, where can she be?
And strangers in the room.
And strangers in the room.”
“I heard them say, “Poor thing, she’s dead,
She led a wretched life.
For grief and sorrow broke her heart.
Who’d be a drunkard’s wife?
Who’d be a drunkard’s wife?”
“I saw my children weeping round.
I scarcely drew my breath.
They called and kissed her lifeless form,
Forever still in death.
Forever still in death.”
“Oh father, come and wake her up;
The people say she’s dead.
Oh, make her smile and speak once more
And we’ll never cry for bread.
And we’ll never cry for bread.”
“She is not dead,” I frantic cried
And rushed to where she lay
And madly kissed her once warm lips
Forever cold as clay.
Forever cold as clay.”
“Oh Mary, speak one word to me,
No more I’ll cause you pain,
No more I’ll break your loving heart
Nor ever get drunk again.
Nor ever get drunk again.”
“Oh Mary, speak, tis Edward’s voice.”
“And so I will,” she cried.
Then I awoke and Mary dear
Was standing by my side.
Was standing by my side.”
I pressed her to my throbbing heart
While tears of joy did stream.
And ever since have Heaven blest
For sending me that dream.
For sending me that dream.”
1972
Cindy
Went up on the mountain
To cut some sugar cane;
Run my finger in a peckerwoods hole
And out popped Lizer Jane.
Cindy in the summertime,
Cindy in the Fall;
If I can’t have Cindy all the time
I won't have her at all.
Refrain
Get along home, home, Cindy,
Get along home.
Get along home Cindy, Cindy,
I’m gonna leave you now.
Cindy got religion,
She’d had it twice before,
But when she hears my banjo play
She’s the first jumps on the floor.
Cindy went to meeting,
How happy she did shout.
She got so full of glory
She tore her stocking heels out.
If I had a needle and thread
As fine as I could sew,
I’d sew that girl to my side
And down the road I’d go.
Fathers will cry for the rocks and mountains,
Fathers will cry for the rocks and mountains.
Fathers will cry for the rocks and mountains
When the last trumpet shall sound.
Try and hide from the face of Jesus,
Try and hide from the face of Jesus.
Try and hide from the face of Jesus
When the last trumpet shall sound.
Mothers will cry for the rocks and mountains,
Mothers will cry for the rocks and mountains.
Mothers will cry for the rocks and mountains
When the last trumpet shall sound.
Try and hide from the face of Jesus,
Try and hide from the face of Jesus.
Try and hide from the face of Jesus
When the last trumpet shall sound.
Brothers ……
Try and hide from the face of Jesus,
Try and hide from the face of Jesus.
Try and hide from the face of Jesus
When the last trumpet shall sound.
Sisters ……
Sinners will cry for the rocks and mountains,
Sinners will cry for the rocks and mountains.
Sinners will cry for the rocks and mountains
When the last trumpet shall sound.
I Gave My Love A Cherry
I gave my love a cherry that had no stone,
I gave my love a chicken that had no bone,
I gave my love a ring that had no end,
I gave my love a baby with no crying.
How can there be a cherry that has no stone?
How can there be a chicken that had no bone?
How can there be a ring that has no end?
How can there be a baby with no crying?
A cherry when it’s blooming, it has no stone,
A chicken when it’s pipping, it has no bone,
A ring when it’s rolling it has no end,
A baby when it’s sleeping has no crying.
Black Jack David
Black Jack David come a riding through the woods,
A singing so loud and lovely.
He wrecked the heart of a green, green woods
And he charmed the heart of a lady,
And he charmed the heart of a lady.
“How old are you my pretty fair miss?
How old are you my honey?”
She answered him with a tee, hee, hee,
“I’ll be sixteen next Sunday,
I’ll be sixteen next Sunday.”
“Won’t you go with me my pretty fair miss?
Won’t you go with me my honey?
I’ll take you where the grass grows green,
And you never shall want for money,
And you never shall want for money.”
“Won’t you forsaken your house and home,
And go along with me?
I’ll take you where the grass grows green
And you can have liberty,
And you can have liberty.”
“It’s I’ll forsaken my house and home,
It’s I’ll forsaken my baby,
It’s I’ll forsaken my husband true
And gone with a Black Jack David,
And gone with a Black Jack David.”
She pulled off her high heeled shoes,
All made of Spanish leather,
She put on her low heeled boots
And they both rode off together,
And they both rode off together.
Late that night when the high lord came home
Inquiring of his lady,
The servants said on every hand
“She’s gone with a Black Jack David,
She’s gone with a Black Jack David.”
“Go catch me out my old grey mare,
The dapple’s not so speedy,
I’ll ride to the east, I’ll ride to the west
Till I overtake my lady,
Till I overtake my lady.”
He rode to the east, he rode to the west,
He rode where the sea’s run muddy;
The tears come a streaming down his cheeks
For there he spied his honey,
For there he spied his honey.
“Have you forsaken your house and home?
Have you forsaken your baby?
Have you forsaken your husband true
And gone with a Black Jack David,
And gone with a Black Jack David?”
“It’s I forsaken my house and home,
It’s I forsaken my baby,
It’s I forsaken my husband true
And gone with a Black Jack David,
And gone with a Black Jack David.”
“Last night I slept on a feather bed
Between my husband and baby,
Tonight I’m sleeping on the cold, cold ground,
But I’m sleeping with my Black Jack David,
But I’m sleeping with my Black Jack David.”
In 1905 MawMaw’s mother, Aunt Becky Shults Fowler, married Dugan Jenkins, a widower, who lived at the head of the Trail Holler in the McMillan Settlement, near Cosby, Tennessee. In 1910 she learned “Black Jack David” from Tolliver Jenkins' daughter, Elizabeth “Toll”. Her nickname was to distinguish her from another Elizabeth Jenkins, a relative. Tolliver was one of Dugan Jenkins' brothers. Elizabeth married a Compton, and moved to Knoxville, Tennessee.
I Met My Own True Love
I met my own true love. “Met, met,” said he,
“I return to my own native soil, and all for the sake of thee.
I return to my own native soil, and all for the sake of thee.”
“Come in, come in, my own true love and have a seat by me,
It’s been three fourths of a long, long year since together we have been.
It’s been three fourths of a long, long year since together we have been.”
“I can’t come in and I can’t sit down for I have but a moment of time,
I hear you’re married to a house carpenter and your heart will never be mine.
I hear you’re married to another young man and your heart will never be mine.”
It’s I could have married a rich king’s daughter, I’m sure she’d a married me,
But I refused a crown of gold and all for the sake of thee.
But I refused a crown of gold and all for the sake of thee.”
“If you could a married a rich king’s daughter, I’m sure you are to blame,
For I only married a house carpenter and I think he’s a nice young man.
For I only married a house carpenter and I think he’s a nice young man.”
“If you will leave your house carpenter and go along with me,
I’ll take you where the grass grows green and you can have liberty.
I’ll take you where the grass grows green and you can have liberty.”
“If I will leave my house carpenter and go along with thee,
Have you got anything to maintain me upon and keep me from slavery?
Have you got anything to maintain me upon and keep me from slavery?”
“I have five ships on the ocean wide a sailing for dry land,
A hundred and fifty bold seamen for to be at your command.
A hundred and fifty bold sea men for to be at your command.”
She picked up her sweet little babe and kisses she gave it three,
Saying, “Stay right here my sweet little babe and keep your papa company.”
Saying, “Stay right here my sweet little babe and keep your papa company.”
She dressed herself in silk so fine, most glorious to behold,
And as they walked out on the wharf she outshined the glittering gold.
And as they walked out on the wharf she outshined the glittering gold.
She hadn’t been gone but about two weeks, I’m sure it was not three,
Till she began to weep, till she began to mourn, “I wish I’d never left home.”
Till she began to weep, till she began to mourn, “I wish I’d never left home.”
“Are you a weeping for your silver and gold? Or either for your store?
Or are you a weeping for your house carpenter that you will never see no more?
Or are you a weeping for your house carpenter that you will never see no more?”
“I’m not a weeping for my silver nor my gold, nor either for your store,
I’m just a weeping for my sweet little babe’s face that I’ll never see no more.
I’m just a weeping for my sweet little babe’s face that I’ll never see no more.”
“Looky yonder, it’s my true love, as white as any snow.
That is Heaven, it’s I do know, where all the good people go.
That is Heaven, it’s I do know, where my sweet little babe shall go.”
“Looky yonder, it’s my true love, as black as any crow.
That is hell, it’s I do know, where you and I will go.
That is hell, it’s I do know, where you and I will go.”
Lower Creek, Lenoir, NC, November 1967, February 3, 1971
MawMaw Mae recollected the last two verses of “I Met My Own True Love” while she and my aunt Carrie McMillan (her oldest daughter 1921-2015) were discussing love songs they used to sing at home on Groundhog Creek, near Cosby, Tennessee. Aunt Carrie said she remembered distinctly hearing her mother, Mae, singing it while working in the garden. That would have been in the 1920’s and thirties. MawMaw learned it between 1905 and 1918, the year she married, from Dora Gilliland (pronounced “Gilland”) and Flora Belle Dorsey (often pronounced “Dawsey”) who lived on Cosby Creek. MawMaw also heard it as “Well met, well met, my old true love” from Johnny Phillips’s wife, Sis (nee Jenkins)). Sometimes MawMaw would begin it as “We’ve met, we’ve met, my old true love.”
A Maid A Being Young
Well, a maid a being young, she thought it no harm.
Well, a maid a being young, she thought it no harm.
Well, a maid a being young, she thought it no harm,
So she jumped in the bed and rolled in my arms.
And it’s what I done there I cannot tell here.
And it’s what I done there I cannot tell here.
It’s what I done there I cannot tell here,
But I wish that night had a been a long year.
Well, the six months passed and the time rolled by.
Well, the six months passed and the time rolled by.
The six months passed and the time rolled by;
Her slippers wouldn’t button, her apron’s wouldn’t tie.
Well, if it’s a girl child, hire it a nurse.
Silver and gold, put money in it’s purse;
Take it on your lap and comb its little head,
And don’t forget the night when I got your maidenhead.
Well, if it’s a boy child, name it after me;
Stick a gun in its pocket, dress t in blue,
And tell it to see the girls likes it’s papa used to do.
MawMaw learned this bawdy number from her cousin, Bethunie Clark who was taught it one night at the schoolhouse by her teacher, among other things. Bethunie got pregnant, and, to avoid scandal, her parents moved with her to middle Tennessee.
I Dreamed A Dream The Other Night
I dreamed a dream the other night,
All in my arms I had her;
But when I woke it was a joke,
I’se forced to lie without her.
Her yellow hair, like streams of gold,
Was lying on the pillow;
She’s the prettiest thing, I love her so well,
I’ll follow the railroad after her.
I followed her on to her uncle’s house,
Inquiring of such a fair one;
They answered, “Sir, she is not here,
And why do you inquire about her?”
But when she heard her true loves voice
She hastened to the window,
Says, “I freely would come to you, my love,
But the locks and bolts do hinder.”
As I stood there all in a maze,
All in those pains and humors,
My patience flew, my sword I drew,
And quickly I went to her.
I taken her by her lily white hand,
I led her over hills and valleys,
Saying, “Come all young men who love like me,
Take one and fight the other.”
Maw Maw Phillips
Lower Creek
Caldwell County NC
November 1967
Dickie And Johnson
Dickie said to Johnson one cold winter day,
“Let’s ride up on the mountain and pass the time away.”
So they rode and they rode till they came to the mountains high,
Dickie said to Johnson, “I heard a woman cry.”
They looked off to their right, and they looked off to their left,
They spied a naked woman chained down by herself.
“Oh, woman, poor woman, what are you doing down there?”
“The robbers they have robbed me and left me here to die.”
Then Dickie being kind hearted and easy for to mind,
He wropped her in his overcoat and put her p behind.
They rode and they rode ten thousand miles or more,
They spied seven robbers all standing in a row.
Then Johnson said to Dickie, “We’d better take wings and fly,”
But Dickie said to Johnson, “Before I’ll fly I’ll die.”
They fought and they fought till the sun was going down,
They killed six of the robbers and the seventh couldn’t be found.
Then Dickie being kind wearied lay down for to take a rest,
Up stepped the cruel woman and stobbed him in the breast.
“Oh, woman, cruel woman, see what you have done,
You’ve killed the bravest soldier that ever fired a gun.”
Maw Maw Phillips
November 1967
I’ve heard this song from a number of different people. My daddy sang it “You’ve killed the bravest cowboy that ever fired a gun.” He called it “Dixon and Johnson”. Dellie Norton sang “he wropped her in his big, grey coat”; her son-in-law said “Lets ride around Kings mountain”, etc.
Dark Is The Color Of My True Love’s Hair
Dark is the color of my true love’s hair,
His cheeks are like some rosy fair,
The sweetest face and the neatest hands;
I love the ground whereon he stands.
I love my love and well he knows
I love the ground whereon he goes.
If you no more on earth I see,
I wouldn’t treat you like you did me.
The winter’s passed , the leaves are green;
The time is passed that we have been;
But, still I hope the time will come
When you and I will be as one.
I go to cry, to mourn and weep,
But satisfied I cannot sleep.
You turned me away and broke my heart,
Oh, how can I from you depart?
So fare you well, my dear sweetheart,
You’ve slighted me but I wish you well.
If you no more on earth I see
I wouldn’t serve you like you served me.
November 1967
Maw Maw had another version of this piece which had the same verses, but added more to it from another folk song, sometimes called “The Slighted Sweetheart”. It also had a tune in a major key, whereas, this one was in a wailing minor. She said her girlfriends and she used to all sing it together as if they were crying.
Dellie Norton also knew this song as “Dark Is The Color” as well as “Black Is the Color” and she sang the second line: “His home is on some island fair.” Cas Wallin also knew it with slightly worded differences and a verse or two that MawMaw’s version didn’t have. Dellie said it used to be called “Fair Pink”.
I Used To Wear My Aprons Low
I used to wear my apron’s low,
I used to wear my apron’s low,
I used to wear my apron’s low,
My love followed me through frost and snow.
But now my apron’s to my chin,
But now my apron’s to my chin,
But now my apron’s to my chin,
My love drives by, but he won’t come in.
He goes down to yonder’s town,
He goes down to yonder’s town,
He goes down to yonder’s town,
Takes him a chair and he sits down.
He takes that other girl on his knee,
He takes that other girl on his knee,
He takes that other girl on his knee,
And he tells her the things that he once told me.
I wish to the Lord my baby was born,
I wish to the Lord my baby was born,
I wish to the Lord my baby was born,
A sitting on it’s papa’s knee.
And me, poor girl was dead and gone,
And me, poor girl was dead and gone,
And me, poor girl was dead and gone,
And the green grass growing over me.
Maw Maw used to work as a hired girl for an old couple back in the Smokie’s and learned this song from them as they sat on their porch. This would have been around 1916 or sooner. 1967
The War Is A Raging
The war is a raging and Johnny you must fight,
Oh, I want to be with you from morning till night.
I want to be with you, it grieves my heart so,
Won’t you let me go with you? “Oh, no, my darling, no.”
I’ll go to your general, I’ll fall on my knee’s,
I’ll offer one hundred bright guinea’s for your release.
One hundred bright guinea’s, they hurt my heart so,
Won’t you let me go with you? “Oh, no, my darling, no.”
I’ll tie up my hair, men’s clothing I’ll put on,
I’ll walk right beside you as you go marching along.
As you go marching along, it grieves my heart so,
Won’t you let me go with you? “Oh, no, my darling, no.”
“It’s you’d be standing on picket some cold winter’s day,
Your red, rosy cheeks they would soon fade away.”
Your red, rosy cheeks they grieve my heart so,
Won’t you let me go with you? “Oh, no, my darling, no.”
Oh, Johnny, I love you more than tongue can confess,
Won’t you let me go with you? “Oh, yes, my darling, yes.”
Mae Phillips
Lenoir, NC
June 13, 1973
Sailor Boy
Papa, papa, yonder he goes; Papa, papa, yonder he goes,
Papa, papa, yonder he goes with a Stetson hat and a suit of clothes.
Mama, mama, don’t you see? Mama, mama, don’t you see?
Mama, mama, don’t you see? I love little Willie and he loves me.
Father, oh, father, build me a boat, Father, father build me a boat,
Father, father, build me a boat so on the ocean I can float.
And ever ship that passes by, and ever ship that passes by,
And ever ship that passes by I think I hear little Willie cry.
Captain, captain tell me true, Captain, captain, tell me true,
Captain, captain, tell me true, does little Willie sail with you?
“Oh no, oh no, he’s not with me, Oh no, oh no, he’s not with me,
Oh no, oh no, he’s not with me, he got lost on the dark blue sea.”
She wrung her hands, she tore her hair, She wrung her hands, she tore her hair,
She wrung her hands, she tore her hair, like a maid in deep despair.
Her boat against a rock she run, Her boat against a rock she run,
Her boat against a rock she run, Cried, “Alas, what have I done?”
I’ll go home, I’ll write a song, I’ll go home. I’ll write a song,
I’ll go home, I’ll write a song, I’ll write it true, I’ll write it long.
At the head of every line she dropped a tear, At the head of every line she dropped a tear,
At the head of every line she dropped a tear, At the end of every line, “Sweet Willie, my dear.”
September 5, 1972
Lenoir, NC
A Pretty Fair Miss
A pretty fair miss all in a garden,
A sailor boy came riding by;
He rode to the gate and thus addressed her,
Saying, “Pretty fair miss, won’t ye be my bride?”
“Oh no, oh no, a girl of honor,
A man of honor you may be,
But how could you impose on a lady,
Wherefore your bride she’s not to be?”
“I have a lover in the army,
For seven long years he’s been oversea,
And if he’s gone, there’s seven years longer
No man on earth can marry me.”
“Perhaps he’s in some ocean drown-ded,
Perhaps he’s in some battle slain,
Perhaps he’s to some fair girl married,
His face you’ll never see again?”
“If he’s dead I hope he’s happy,
Or if he’s in some battle slain,
Or if he’s to some fair girl married
I’ll love the girl that married him.”
He drew his hands all out of his pockets,
His fingers being neat and small,
Saying, here’s the ring you gave me,
Prostrate before him she did fall.
He picked her up in his embraces,
Kisses sweet he give her three,
Saying, “I’m a single soldier
Just returned for to marry thee.”
November 1967
Lower Creek
Lenoir, NC
My Parents All Treated Me Kindly
My parents all treated me kindly for they had no child but me.
My mind began to ramble, on this we couldn’t agree.
My mind began to ramble, and oh, what grieves me so,
Is to leave my aged parents, their face to see no more.
There was a rich old gentleman, he lived in a town close by.
He had one only daughter, on whom I cast an eye.
She was both tall and handsome, most beautiful and fair,
There’s not one girl in this wide world with her I could compare.
I told her my intention was far across the main,
I asked if she’s prove true to me till I returned again,
She said she’s prove true to me if death didn’t prove unkind,
So we kissed, shook hands, and parted, and I left my girl behind.
I went over on Broadway, (out on the pubic square
The mail coach had just arrived,) I met the driver there.
He handed me a letter which gave me to good understand
That the girl I left behind me had married another man.
As I stood there a grieving, he said, “Poor boy, don’t cry,
Oh, money I have plenty and it’s for you and I.”
“My horses I’ll turn over, my company I’ll resign,
We’ll ramble this world over for the girl I left behind.”
November 1967
Lower Creek
Lenoir, NC
Maw Maw only knew an abbreviated version of “The Girl I Left Behind” but she had a fine tune for it. Aunt Lou Brookshire of the Kings Creek community near Lenoir, NC knew a longer variant. “Little Granny”, Berzilla Wallin, of the Sodom community, in Madison County, NC, knew a different version in which it is the man who proves faithless to his love, and is the cause of their deaths from broken hearts.
I Never Will Marry
One morning I rambled down by the seashore,
The wind it did whistle and the waters did roar.
I heard some fair maiden give a pitiful sound,
And it sounded so lonesome in the waters around.
“I never will marry, nor be no man’s wife,
I expect to live single all the days of life.”
“My love’s gone and left me, the one I adore,
He’s gone where I never shall see him no more.”
The shells in the ocean will be my death bed,
While fish in deep waters swim over my head.”
She plunged her fair body in the waters so deep,
And she closed her blue eyes in the waters to sleep.
I learned this from a number of people. My daddy knew most all of it; he told it basically like Maw Maw sang it. He wasn’t a singer, but he remembered the words to a number of songs he heard growing up in the McMillon Settlement, near Cosby, Tennessee. Mary Norton, Dellie’s daughter, of the Sodom community in Madison County, NC had a song ballet of it which had more verses.
Mama Sent Me To The Store
Mama sent me to the store, she told me not to stay;
I got struck on a blue eyed girl and could not get away.
First he give me peaches, next he give her pears,
Next he give me fifteen cents to kiss him on the stairs.
I give him back his peaches, I gave him back his pears,
I give him back his fifteen cents, then I kicked him down the stairs.
I can wash the dishes, I can scrub the floors,
I can kiss the pretty boys behind the parlor doors.
November 1967
Lower Creek Lenoir, NC
Boston Girl
I was raised in the city of Boston a town that you know well;
Brought up by honest parents, the truth to you I’ll tell.
Three weeks ago last Saturday night of course would be the day
The devil put it in my mind to take her life away.
I asked her for to take a walk a little piece away,
And we would have a little talk about our wedding day.
We walked along and we talked along to a dark and lonely place;
I picked a stake from off the fence and struck her in the face.
Down on her bended knees she fell and loud for mercy did cry,
“Oh Lord, it’s do not kill me here, I’m not prepared to die.”
I run my hands through her coal black hair as if for to cover my sin;
I drug her out to the riverside and there I plunged her in.
“Lay there, lay there, you Boston girl, with dark and rolling eyes,
Lay there, lay there, you Boston Girl, you never will be my bride,”
Come all young men and warning take, unto your lover be true,
And never let the devil get the upper hand of you.
Lenoir, NC
September 5, 1972
Bob Lindsey, of Groundhog Creek, near Cosby, Tennessee, used to play this piece on the guitar and sing it in a deep drawl, as MawMaw recalled. Although lifetime acquaintances, this would have been learned in the 1920’s and 30’s.
Loving Henry
Have you seen my loving Henry? Have you seen my loving man?
Have you seen my loving Henry up here loafing around?
I’m just daffy about my Henry, he’s the sweetest in the land.
This girl, you sure will tickle if you find my Henry man.
I know he isn’t fickle, we never had a row,
This girl, you sure will tickle if you find my Henry now.
When I Was A Little Boy
When I was a little boy I lived by myself,
And all the bread and cheese I got I laid in on the shelf.
The rats and the mice led me such a life
I had to go to London to get me a wife.
The streets was so muddy and the roads so narrow
I had to haul her home in an old wheelbarrow.
The wheelbarrow broke and my wife caught a fall,
Away went the wheel barrow, wife and all.
The Bloody Dagger
‘Oh, Katie dear, go ask your mama
If you can be a bride of mine;
If she says yes, come back and tell me,
If she says no, we’ll run away.”
“Oh, Willie dear, there’s no need asking,
For she’s upstairs a taking her rest,
And by her side is a little white dagger
To slay the one I love the best.”
“Oh, Katie dear, go ask your papa
If you can be a bride of mine,
If he says yes come back and tell me,
If he says no we’ll run away.”
“Oh, Willie dear, there’s no need asking,
For he’s upstairs a taking his rest,
And by his side is a bloody dagger
To slay the one I love the best.”
Then he picked up the bloody dagger
And plunged it through his troubled heart,
Saying, “Goodbye Katie, goodbye darling,
It’s now forever we must part.”
Then she picked up the bloody dagger
And stove it through her lily white breast,
Saying, “Goodbye papa, goodbye mama,
I’ll die for the one I love the best.”
Maw Maw Phillips
Lower Creek
Caldwell County NC
1972
Saddled Up My Old Grey Mare
Saddled up my old grey mare, saddled up my old grey mare,
Saddled up my old grey mare, and led her off up to the fair.
When she got there she’s very tired, when she got there she’s very tired,
When she got there she’s very tired, she lay down in the old church yard.
When they went to lead her in, when they went to lead her in,
When they went to lead her in, the preacher laughed and the old mare grinned.
When the preacher begin to preach, when the preacher begin to preach,
When the preacher begin to preach the old mare got up on her feet.
When the preacher begin to pray, when the preacher begin to pray,
When the preacher begin to pray the old mare got in a devil of a way.
When they went to lead her out, when they went to lead her out,
When they went to lead her out ye ought to a heard that old mare shout.
When they took her to be baptized, when they took her to be baptized,
When they took her to be baptized, the preacher laughed and the old mare cried.
When they led her from the church, when they led her from the church,
When they led her from the church, fed her up on mountain birch.
(Then the old grey mare, she died, then the old grey mare she died,
Then the old grey mare, she died, the people laughed and the preacher cried.)
Lower Creek
Lenoir, NC
November 1967
MawMaw learned this from her mother, Rebecca Shults (1868-1963), who, I believe learned it from her father, John W. Shults (1841-1904). She said they fed the mare on mountain birch and it died, but couldn’t quite remember the words, so the last verse is my reconstruction of how it went.
Knoxville Girl
There was a girl in Knoxville town, a girl that I loved well,
And every Sunday evening in her home I’d dwell.
I called her up at her sister’s house at eight o’clock one night,
But little did her sister say at her I had a spite.
I asked her for to take a walk with me a little piece away,
That we would have a little talk about our wedding day.
We walked along and we talked along to a dark and lonely place,
I took a stake from off the fence and struck her in the face.
And on her bended knee’s she fell and loud for mercy did cry,
“Oh Lord, it’s do not kill me here I’m not prepared to die.”
(She never spoke another word, I only beat her more,
I beat her till the ground around flowed in a bloody gore.)
I run my hands through her coal black hair as if for to cover my sin,
I drug her to the riverside and there I plunged her in.
“Lay there, lay there, you Knoxville girl with dark and rolling eyes,
Lay there, lay there, you Knoxville girl, you can never be my bride.
I started back to Knoxville, got there about midnight;
My mother, she was worried and woke up in a fright.
“Oh son, oh son, what have you done to bloody your hands and clothes?”
The answer that I give to her was a bleeding at the nose.
I asked my mother for a handkerchief for to tie up my aching head,
And also for a candle to light me off to bed.
I walked up to my boarding place expecting to take a rest;
It seemed as if the flames of hell were burning in my breast..
Just about six weeks later that Knoxville girl was found
Floating down the river that flows through Knoxville town.
Her sister swore my life away, she swore without a doubt,
She swore I was the very one that took her sister out.
And now they’re going to hang me a death I hate to die,
They’re going to hang me up so high between the earth and sky.
September 9, 1972
Son, Oh Son, Oh What’s The Matter?
Will Weaver-o
“Son, oh son, oh what’s the matter?
Does your wife scold, does she flatter?
Or does she to the tavern go
Along with Will Weaver-O?”
:She don’t lie, nor she don’t chatter,
She don’t scold, nor she don’t flatter,
But she to the tavern go
Along with Will Weaver-O.”
He came home all in a wonder,
Knocking at the door like thunder,
“Who is that?” Will Weaver cried,
“It’s my husband, you must hide.“
He sat down by the fireside weeping,
Up the chimney he got to peeping;
There he spied the wretched soul
Perched upon the upper pole.
“Hee, haw haw, now I’ve found ye,
Neither will I hang, nor drown ye,”
This he thought, but never spoke,
“I’ll roust him down from there with smoke.”
He built on a rousting fire
Just to suit his own desire;
“Take him down and spare his life,
Just for the sake of a wedded wife.”
He put on a little more fuel,
What he thought his life was duel.
(Wife cried out with a free good will,
“Husband dear, that man you’ll kill.”)
He reached up and down he brought him,
Like a raccoon dog he shook him,
Shook him till his back was red,
Now poor Will Weaver’s dead.
Maw Maw learned this from her brother, Joe Fowler, who lived on Indian Camp Creek.
High Topped Shoes
“Oh, where did you get them high topped shoes
And the dress you wear, so fine?”
“I got my shoes from a railroad man
And my dress from a man in the mines.”
“Oh, who’s gonna shoe your pretty little feet?
Who’s gonna glove your hand?
And who’s gonna kiss your rosy red lips
When I’m in the far off land?”
“Papa’s gonna shoe my pretty little feet,
Mama’s gonna glove my hand,
Brother’s gonna kiss my rosy red lips
And you’re gonna be my man.”
“The long steel rails and the short cross ties,
Gonna walk my way back home.”
“The longest train I ever did see
Run on a Murphy line,
The engine passed at eight o’clock,
The cab didn’t pass till nine.”
“Look up, look down that lonesome road,
Hang down your head and cry,
The best of friends must part sometimes,
So why not you and I?”
Lenoir, NC
November 1967
Two Ways There Be
Two ways there be to anything, a right way and a wrong,
I’ve catched this world in many tricks, that’s why I sing this song.
The farmer is an honest man, he fills his calling right,
He plows his fields and works his rows from morning until night.
This world’s a hoax, a bubble light of vain delusions fair,
For we are beat in many ways, just now and then and there.
Lightning bug comes in the month of May, June bug comes in June,
Bedbug comes just any old time and says, “I’ve come to stay.”
You May Look For Me Till Your Eyes Runs Water
You may look for me till your eyes runs water,
You may look for me till your eyes runs water,
You may look for me till your eyes runs water,
But I’ll be home someday or another.
It may be June, July, or August,
It may be June, July, or August,
It may be June, July, or August,
But I’ll be home someday or another.
Maw Maw learned this from her mother. I’ve found the first verse in a variant of “Swannanoa Town-O” as collected by Cecil Sharp in1918 near Burnsville, NC. It has a sweet, lonesome tune; different than the rail road song, but what any other verses could have been to this one are gone forever.
August 30, 1972
Down In New Hampshire
Down in New Hampshire a lady did dwell,
She was courted by a squire who loved her so well.
To marry this young lady, it was his intent,
Her friends and her relations had given their consent.
She fired many times, but nothing she did kill,
Until the young farmer came out in the field.
“Why weren’t you at the wedding, the wedding?” she cried,
“To wait on the squire and give him his bride?”
“Oh no, my kind lady, the truth to you I’ll tell,
I could not give her up for I love her too well.”
They laughed and sang a song as they rode along.
How she caught the farmer with her dog and her gun.
I think Maw Maw learned this song from her brother Joe Fowler. She couldn’t remember it all. Miss Ella Mae Costner and her sister sang a similar version of it from the same area, called “Down In Tennessee.” They told me they had changed the title of it to suit the locale. I used to have a copy of their version, but lost it over the years.
September 5, 1972
Listen To My Mournful Story
Listen to my mournful story, all my friends are dead and gone,
Father, I have none, nor mother, a poor orphan left alone.
Mother said when she was dying and her breath was almost gone,
“Dearest daughter, you will soon be a poor orphan left alone.”
“Take this Bible to your closet; read and pray both night and day;
Seek protection in your sorrow while an orphan left alone.”
Take this Bible mother gave me, lay it with me in the tomb,
Tell my friends while weeping round me, Heaven is my happy home. November, 1967
Wild Bill Jones
One day when I was a walking around,
I met up with a wild Bill Jones.
He’s a walking and a talking by my Lulu’s side
When I forbid him, to leave her alone.
He said, “Young man, my age is twenty three
And that’s too old for to be controlled.”
I took my revolver from my side
And I killed that poor boys soul.
He reeled, he rocked, and he fell to the ground,
He gave one dying groan.
He placed his eyes on my Lulu’s face,
Says, ”Darling, you’re left alone.”
Soon the handcuffs was placed tight around my arms
And I was marched to the Franklin jail,
No friends or relations a standing around,
Nobody for to go my bail.
I wrote my Lulu a letter, boys,
And this is what it said,
“Won’t you take back a word or two?
Oh honey, won’t you go my bail?”
She answered my letter in a sad reply,
And this is what it said,
Says, “I guess you’re in trouble now, poor boy,
But never hang down your head.”
“Got forty nine dollars in my pocket
And a forty four in my hand,
If you want to go boys with a rowdy crew,
Come and go with a gambling man.” November, 1967 Lower Creek Lenoir, NC
Old Joe Dawson
Old Joe Dawson, the bully of the town,
Oh, Lordy Lord.
Old Joe Dawson, the bully of the town
Rode through the Haywood, he got shot down,
Oh, Lordy me.
Here comes his wife with her child on her arm,
Oh, Lordy Lord.
Here comes his wife with her child on her arm,
“They killed my man and it’ll kill me,”
Oh, Lordy me.
Shot him in the neck and he fell on his side,
Oh, Lordy Lord.
Shot him in the neck and he fell on his side,
And that was the death Joe Dawson died,
Oh, Lordy me.
Maw Maw told me that an ordinance was passed in Newport (TN) that this song couldn’t be sung within the town limits. Joe Dawson was the sheriff, or, a sheriff in Newport at the end of the nineteenth century. She said he came into Haywood County, NC one night with a revenue agent looking for “Sandy” John Sutton’s still. Sandy John was Mae’s husband’s grandfather. When MawMaw was a girl, or, teenager, she stayed at Sandy John’s place as a hired girl for a time. Anyway, Sandy John was hid in the woods and saw them come around the mountain carrying tin lamps to see by. When they got to the still, instead of busting it up, they went to dividing the liquor. And Sandy John cracked down on the sheriff “and that was the death Joe Dawson died.”
Sandy John Sutton shot and killed Sheriff Joseph S. Dawson, 31, of Cocke County, Tennessee on Thursday, April 20, 1899. Dawson had come into Haywood County, NC illegally and went to Sandy John’s house looking for blockade whiskey. John wasn’t then at home and apparently Dawson pushed around Genetta, John’s wife. Sandy John came in afterwards and found out what happened and went to the woods where he spied Joe and the revenuer at his still where he shot him. He was never arrested for the crime, though it was widely known he had killed “Old Joe Dawson”. The song was composed shortly thereafter allegedly by a Mrs. Hicks. MawMaw Phillips said that her stepfather, Dugan Jenkins had been friends with Dawson and wouldn’t let the ballet be sung at his house. Mrs. Tilda Webb of Cosby sang this version of it.:
Death Of Joe Dawson
Sheriff Joe Dawson was the bully of the town,
Oh Lawdy law.
He rode through Haywood and got shot down,
Oh, Lawdy law.
He rode through the Haywood and got shot down.
He rode through Haywood robbing stills,
Oh, Lawdy law.
He rode through Haywood robbing stills,
He got shot down in Joe Phillips field,
Oh, Lawdy law.
He got shot down in Joe Phillips field.
He was shot in the neck and fell on his side,
Oh, Lawdy law.
He was shot in the neck and fell on his side
And that’s the death Joe Dawson died,
Oh, Lawdy law.
And that’s the death Joe Dawson died.
He came riding on his horses back,
Oh, Lawdy law.
He came riding on his horses back,
Little Charlie Roberts brought him back in a forty dollar hack,
Oh, Lawdy law.
Little Charlie Roberts brought him back in a forty dollar hack.
Tilda Webb is a distant cousin of mine through the Suttons and Jenkins and is related to Sandy John as well.
The late Jean Schilling (nee Costner) and her husband, Lee, ran a dulcimer shop at Cosby, near the entrance to the Park. They recorded a song called “Death of A Sheriff” based on a copy of the song that Jean had. In their version of the song, among others, were the lines: “Joe Dawson got shot at Carlton Springs as through the Haywood he went a riding”….”I dreamed last night and the night before that death walked by my open door”….”Iffen I live and I don’t get shot, I’ll make my liquor in a coffee pot.” I used to have a copy of Jeans version, but, alas, it’s vanished in the passing of time.
Little Omie Wise
Omie, poor Omie, poor little Omie Wise,
How she was deluded by John Lewis’s lies.
How she was deluded by John Lewis’s lies.
He promised to meet her at Adams’s Springs,
He’d bring her some money, some other fine things.
He bring her some money, some other fine things
She met him in the morning at Adams’s Springs,
But he brought her no money, no other fine things.
But he brought her no money, no other fine things.
He brought her no money, but he flattered a case,
“We’ll go and get married, it’ll be no disgrace.”
“We’ll go and get married, it’ll be no disgrace.”
She jumped up behind him and away they did go,
Off to the river where the deep waters flow.
Off to the river where the deep waters flow.
“John Lewis, John Lewis, please tell me your mind,
Is your mind for to marry or leave me behind?”
“Is your mind for to marry or leave me behind?”
Omie, little Omie, I’ll tell you my mind,
My mind is to kill you and leave you behind.”
“My mind it is to kill you and leave you behind.”
“Considerance, considerance, come spare me my life,
And let me go begging if I can’t be your wife.”
“And let me go begging if I can’t be your wife.”
He hugged her and he kissed her and slung her all around,
Out in the deep waters where he knew she would drown.
Out in the deep waters where he knew she would drown.
Two little babies a sitting on the bank,
Saw little Omie’s body come flying down the way.
Saw little Omie’s body come flying down the way.
They threw their nets around her and drug her to the bank,
Took little Omie’s body and laid it on a plank.
Took little Omie’s body and laid it on a plank.
1967
1972
I think in the stanza sung by Maw Maw as “Considerance, considerance…” she was probably misremembering a line that had gone something like: “Consider my infant and spare me my life.”
Don’t This Road Look Rough And Rocky?
Don’t this road look rough and rocky?
Don’t the sea look wide and deep?
Don’t my darling look much sweeter
When she’s in my arms asleep?
Part of a song Maw Maw had forgotten or didn’t sing all of to me at the time.
Louella
Way down in a low green valley
Where the violets fade and bloom,
There lies my love Louella
A moldering in the tomb.
She died not broken hearted,
Nor by disease she fell,
But in one moment parted
From all that she loved well.
“Come, love, and let us wander
Out in the woods, so gay,
While wandering we will ponder
And `point our wedding day.”
The way grew dark before her,
Says she, “I’m afraid to roam.
I’ll bid farewell forever
To parents, kind friends, and home.”
Down on her knees before him
She pleaded for her life.
Down deep into her bosom
He plunged the fatal knife.
“Yes, Willie, I’ll forgive you,
I wish we’d a never met,
My heart I cannot alter,
Nor teach it to forget.”
“Yes, Willie, I’ll forgive you,”
Was her last and dying breath.
“I never did deceive you,”
She closed her eyes in death.
Next morning they found her body
And laid it in the tomb,
Way down in yonder’s valley
Where the violets fade and bloom.
November, 1967
Lower Creek
Lenoir, NC
Railroad Lover
I won’t marry a farmer
For he deals in dirt.
I’d rather marry a railroad boy
Who wears a calico shirt.
Refrain
Railroad lover, oh, railroad dear,
A railroad lover for me;
If ever I marry in all my old days
A railroads bride I’ll be.
I won’t marry a preacher
For he kneels in prayer.
I’d rather marry a railroad boy
Who wears a light, curly hair.
I won’t marry a merchant
For he deals in sale.
I’d rather marry a railroad boy,
He rides on top of the train.
I wont marry a blacksmith
For he deals in coal.
I’d rather marry a railroad boy
Who wears a watch of gold.
Maw Maw Phillips
Lower Creek
Caldwell County NC
1967
Going Back To North Carolina
One sweet kiss and then I’ll leave you,
One sweet kiss and then I’ll leave you,
One sweet kiss and then I’ll leave you,
For I never expect to see you any more.
Refrain
I’m going back to North Carolina,
I’m going back to North Carolina,
I’m going back to North Carolina,
For I never expect to see you any more.
My home’s across the Blue Ridge Mountains,
My home’s across the Blue Ridge Mountains,
My home’s across the Blue Ridge Mountains,
For I never expect to see you any more.
Oh, how I hate to leave you,
Oh, how I hate to leave you,
Oh, how I hate to leave you,
For I never expect to see you any more.
How can I keep from crying?
How can I keep from crying?
How can I keep from crying?
For I never expect to see you any more.
Goodbye, my little darling,
Goodbye, my little darling,
Goodbye, my little darling,
For I never expect to see you any more.
January 31, 1972
Lower Creek
Lenoir, NC
First learned in November, 1967 and over the years sung often by MawMaw and me.
She always pronounced “Carolina” as “Caliner”.
Gypsy, Gypsy
Oh, captain, captain, tell me true,
Does my sweet Willie sail with you?
“Oh, no, he does not sail with me,
For he is over the deep blue sea.”
Oh, father, father, build me a boat,
So on the ocean I can float,
And ever ship that I pass by,
I think I hear my Willie cry.
Oh, gypsy, gypsy, tell me true,
Please tell me something I can do.
I’ll travel over this whole wide world
To keep him from another girl.
He told me that he loved me so,
But on a voyage he must go,
And someday he would return to me,
And then how happy I would be.
When over the ocean he had roamed,
He’d come drifting back to home,
He’d fall into my waiting arms
And I’d be happy with his charms.
Since you first came into my life
I often dreamed I was your wife.
But you have been untrue to me
And gone to sail the deep blue sea.
I see no pleasure without you,
You know you said what you would do.
You said a letter you would write,
That one I pray for every night.
The days are very dark and blue,
I see and dream of only you.
And pray that you’ll come back again,
So in my heart there’ll be no pain. August 30, 1972 Lenoir, NC
I’m A Poor Girl
The Wagoner’s Lad
I’m a poor girl and my fortune is bad,
I truly was courted by a wagoner’s lad.
He courted me truly by night and by day,
But now he’s hitched up and driving away.
Your horses is hungry, go feed them some hay;
Come sit down beside me as long as you stay.
“My horses ain’t hungry, they won’t eat your hay,
So, fare you well Polly, I’m driving away.”
“My wagon is greasy, my bill is to pay,
So, fare you well Polly, I’ve no time to stay.
My wagon is greasy, my whip’s in my hand,
So, fare you well Polly, I’ve no time to stand.”
“Your parents don’t like me because I am poor,
They say I’m not worthy to enter your door.
Your parents are against me (and mine are the same,
If I’m wrote in your book, love, please rub out my name..”)
It’s hard is the fortune of poor woman kind,
They’re always controlled, they’re always confined;
Controlled by their parents till they become wives,
And slaves to their husbands the rest of their lives.
Oh, now he is gone and left me alone,
Left nothing behind him but small birds to mourn.
If ever I meet him I’ll crown him with joy
And kiss the sweet lips of my wagoner’s boy.
November 1967
September 4, 1972
Lower Creek Lenoir,NC
Come All Ye Fair And Tender Ladies
Come all ye fair and tender ladies,
Be careful how you court young men.
They’re like a bright star in a summer’s morning;
They first appear and then they’re gone.
They’ll tell to you some lovely story;
Declare to you they love you well;
Straightway they’ll go and court some other,
And that’s the love they have for you.
I wish that I had never seen him,
Or that I’d a died when I was young;
To think a fair and handsome lady
Was stricken by his lying tongue.
Oh, love is sweet and love is charming
And love is pleasant when it’s new;
But love grows cold as it grows old
And fades away like the morning dew.
If I had knowed before I courted
True love was so hard to win,
I’d a locked my heart in a silver box
And pinned it with a pin.
I wish I were a little white swallow
And had wings and, oh, could fly so high.
I’d fly away to my false true lover,
And when he’d speak, I’d deny.
But I’m not no little white swallow,
Hain’t got no wings to fly so high.
I’ll sit alone in grief and sorrow
And try to pass my troubles by.
I hope there is a day a coming
When my lover I shall see.
I hope there is a place of torment
To punish my love for denying me.
Maw Maw Phillips 1972
No Home No Home
“No home, no home,” plead a little girl
At the door of a family hall,
As she trembling stood on the marble steps,
And leaned on the polished wall.
And leaned on the polished wall.
Her clothes were thin and her feet were bare
And the snow had covered her head.
“Oh, give me a home,” she feebly cried,
“A home and a piece of bread.”
“A home and a piece of bread.”
“My father, alas, I never knew,”
Tears dimmed her eyes so bright,
“My mother sleeps in a new made grave,
Tis an orphan that begs tonight.”
“Tis an orphan that bags tonight.”
The night was dark and the snow still fell
As the rich man closed his door,
And his proud lips curled as he scornfully said,
“No room, no bread for the poor.”
“No room, no bread for the poor.”
“I must freeze,” she cried as she sank on the steps,
Strove to wrap up her hands and feet,
And her tattered dress all covered in snow,
Is covered in snow and sleet.
Is covered in snow and sleet.
The rich man slept on his velvet bed
And dreamed of his silver and gold;
While the orphan lie on a bed of snow,
And murmured, “So cold, so cold.”
The night was dark and the midnight storm
Rolled on like a funeral bell,
And the earth was wropped in a winding sheet,
And the drops of snow still fell.
And the drops of snow still fell.
The morning dawned and the little girl
Still lay at the rich man’s door;
But her soul had fled to her home above,
Where there’s room and bread for the poor.
Where there’s room and bread for the poor.
November 1967
Lower Creek
Lenoir, NC
This was one of the first songs Maw Maw ever remembered hearing.
Jack And Joe
Three years ago when Jack and Joe set sail across the farm,
They vowed a fortune each would gain before returning home.
In one short year Jack gained his wealth and sailed for home that day,
And as they shook their hands to part poor Joe could only say:
Refrain
“Oh, give my love to Nellie, Jack, and kiss her once for me;
The fairest girl in all this world, I know you’ll say is she.
Treat her kind, oh Jack, oh boy, and tell her I am well.”
Those parting words were, “Don’t forget to give my love to Nell.”
Three years had passed, and Joe at last gained wealth enough for life;
He sailed for home across the farm to make sweet Nell his wife.
But little did he ever think that Jack and Nell had wed;
With tears and frets and sad regrets he wished he’d never said:
They chanced to meet upon the street, says, “Jack, you selfish elf;
The next girl that I learn to love, I’ll kiss her for myself.
“All is vain, in love,” he said, “As you have gone and wed;
I’ll not be angry with you, Jack,” and once again he said:
September 3, 1972 Lenoir, NC
Oh Brother Green
Oh, brother Green, do come to me
And write my wife a letter;
A southern foe has laid me low
On this cold ground to suffer.
I know that she has prayed for me,
And I know her prayers are answered,
That I might be prepared to die
If I should fall in battle.
Dear brother, you have suffered long
And prayed for my salvation,
And I must die and leave you all,
Still hope to meet in Heaven.
Tell my wife she must not grieve,
But kiss the little children,
For they will call for me in vain
When I am gone to Heaven.
Dear Mary, you must teach them well,
And train them up for Heaven,
That they may love and serve the Lord,
And they will be respected.
Dear Brother Green, I’m dying now,
Oh, that I die so easy.
Oh, surely death has lost its sting
Before my loving Jesus.
Maw Maw said that her stepfather, Dugan Jenkins, claimed to have been in the army with Brother Green, but that he got better and made it home. 1972
Sourwood Mountain
I got a girl on Sourwood Mountain,
She’s both crippled and blind.
(Broke the heart of many poor lovers,
But she ain’t broke this heart of mine.)
Chickens a crowing on Sourwood Mountain,
Hi, ho, diddle um a day.
Call the dogs and we’ll go hunting,
Hi, ho, diddle um a day.
Oh man, oh man, I want your daughter,
Hi, ho, diddle um a day,
To bake my bread and carry me water,
Hi, ho, diddle um a day.
Big dogs bark and the little dogs bite you,
Hi, ho, diddle um a day.
Big girls court and the little girls slight you,
Hi, ho, diddle um a day.
My true love lives up the holler,
Hi, ho, diddle um a day.
She won’t come and I can’t foller,
Hi, ho, diddle um a day.
My true love lives up the river,
Hi, ho, diddle um a day.
A few more jumps and I’ll be with her,
Hi, ho, diddle um a day.
Ducks in the mill pond, geese in the ocean,
Hi, ho, diddle um a day.
Devil’s in the women when they take a notion,
Hi, ho, diddle um a day.
1972 MawMaw learned this from her husband, Walter Phillips.
There On Bird’s Creek
Come one and all ye rambling boys,
And I’ll declare my woes and joys;
Listen now, what I declare
What fixed on me my cruel despair.
There on Bird’s Creek I married me a wife,
And I loved her dear as I loves my life;
I dressed her up so neat and gay,
I then contrived to bring her away.
Some time was spent in a pleasant life,
But later on came sorrow and strife,
Declared with me she would not stay,
She’d take her lief (leave) and go away.
Keeler pleaded oft with Kate to stay,
He was slighted much, “Go, go away.
Yes, get you up and be you gone,
I want your room for my dear son.”
“Yes, go away, and ever roam,
For in my house you have no home.
And never call or come again,
But fix your hopes on other men.”
In a corset tight and a coal black gown
Poor Katie rode to Newport town;
She there did go to lawyer Mims,
Some news she has to relate to him.
“There’s a marriage vow that’s a binding me,
And I call on you to set me free;
To build my plea’s and to pled my cause
That I may be free like the rambling boys.”
The lawyer said in a lawyers style,
With a pleasant gleam and a joyous smile,
“The proper thing for us to do
Is keep this secret, me and you.”
“Sheriff Cates, our plan must know,
He’ll mount his horse and quickly go
To pounce upon the old man’s steed,
It is a prize we greatly need.”
”The old man’s here, make haste, make haste,
And notify our sheriff Cates.”
The lawyer then, in a break neck speed
Did try his utmost to succeed.
Old Sheridan on his warrior steed
Could scarcely have made greater speed
Than Cates did make to the Ellum tree,
“Lo, Keeler’s gone, oh, where is he?”
The sheriff dismounts, begins to seek,
He goes high up on the mountains peak.
He quickly halts and turns around,
Saying, “Keeler’s gone, he can’t be found.”
Cates says harsh words that leave a sting,
“Don’t let the old man keep a thing,
Though he works hard, does little harm,
Swings scythe and cradle on each arm.”
Then Cates spoke up with a bitter smile,
Saying, “There’s no need to go to trial,
Your steed is all I want to take,
I want it now, don’t want to wait.”
Keeler saved his horse with nerve and pluck,
He’s hopeful yet of some good luck.
He may survive and live some time
For he is guilty of no crime
Oh, love, you may with all your heart,
Cords sometimes break and you may part.
So bind your heart with a love locked cord
And give the key unto the Lord.
Vow nevermore from each other part
While each retains a beating heart.
You then may live a pleasant life
With a husband true and a loving wife.
MawMaw Phillips learned “There On Bird’s Creek”, or, “Old Keeler” as a child at the home of her stepfather, Dugan Jenkins. She said Dugan knew “Old” Keeler and perhaps had the ballet from him, as he was said to have written it himself. I don’t know where she learned the tune which is sung to “The Rake and Rambling Boy”, a song I never heard MawMaw sing.
MawMaw couldn’t remember all the words, but she got some of them from a Bryant man, who lived near Hartford, and the rest supplied from a song ballet written down by Bryson Valentine of Cosby.
Green Grows The Laurel
I used to have a sweetheart, but now I have none;
He’s gone and left me, I live all alone,
I live all alone and contented I’ll be,
For he says he loves another one better than me.
Refrain
Green grows the laurel all wet with the dew,
Sad was the day I parted with you,
But from experience I would have you to know
Young men are deceitful wherever they go.
I pass my love’s window both morning and night;
I pass my love’s window both early and late,
To see my love sit there it made my heart ache,
The lad of the laurel, the lad of the lake.
I wrote her a letter in rosy red lines,
She wrote me a letter all twisted and twine,
Saying, “Keep your love letters and I’ll keep mine,
Go write to your sweetheart and I’ll write to mine.”
There Was An Old Man Lived Under The Hill
There was an old man lived under the hill,
He shit in his shoe and sent it to the mill.
The miller swore to the point of his knife,
He never took a toll of a turd in his life.”
Rhyme learned by Maw Maw in Tennessee.
I Was Born In East Virginia
I was born in East Virginia,
North Carolina I did go;
There I spied a pretty little lady,
And her age I do not know.
Her hair was dark of color,
Her lips was rosy red;
On her breast she wore white lilies,
Oh, the tears that I have shed.
At my heart you are my darling,
At my door you’re welcome in,
At my gate I’ll always meet you,
For you’re the girl I tried to win.
Papa said we could not marry,
Mama said it’d never do,
But if you are willing darling,
I will run away with you.
When I’m asleep I’m dreaming about you,
When I awake there is no rest.
Every moment seems like an hour,
Every pain seems like death.
You may meet with many chances
Floating down the river stream,
But remember, little darling,
You are always in my dreams.
You may meet with brighter faces,
They will tell you I’m not true.
But remember, little darling,
No one loves you like I do.
I’d rather be in some dark holler
Where the sun don’t never shine,
Than for you to be some other man’s darling
When you promised to be mine.
I don’t want your greenback dollar,
I don’t want your watch and chain.
All I want is your heart, darling
Won't you take me back again?
1968
Lower Creek
Lenoir, NC
One Morning, One Morning
One morning, one morning, one morning in May,
I spied a fair couple a winding their way.
One was a lady, so sweet and so fair,
And the other was a soldier, a brave volunteer.
They had not been standing but one hour or two,
When out of his knapsack a fiddle he drew.
He played such a tune, made the mountains to ring.
See, the silver waters gliding, hear the nightingales sing.
“Pretty lady, pretty lady, it’s time to give o’er,”
“Oh no, pretty soldier, please play one tune more.
I’d rather hear your fiddle, just the touch of one string,
Than see the waters gliding, hear the nightingales sing.”
“Pretty soldier, pretty soldier, will you marry me?”
“Oh no, pretty lady, that never can be.
I’ve a wife back in London and children it’s twice three,
Two wives in the army’s too many for me.”
“I’ll go back to London, I’ll stay there one year,
And often I’ll think of you, little dear.
And when I return to you in the Spring,
To see the waters gliding, hear the nightingales sing.”
November 1967
Lower Creek
Lenoir, NC
Lazy John
“Lazy John, lazy John, will you marry me?”
“How can I marry such a pretty girl as you
With me no shoes to wear?”
Then up she flipped, and down she skipped,
And down to the market square,
The finest shoes that she could find
Her lazy John to wear.
“Lazy John, lazy John, will you marry me?”
“How can I marry such a pretty girl as you
With me no socks to wear?”
Then up she flipped and down she skipped
And down to the market square,
The finest socks that she could find
Her lazy John to wear.
“Lazy John, lazy John, will you marry me?”
“How can I marry such a pretty girl as you
With me no pants to wear?”
Then up she flipped and down she skipped
And down to the market square,
The finest pants that she could find
Her lazy John to wear.
“Lazy John, lazy John, will you marry me?”
“How can I marry such a pretty girl as you
With me no shirt to wear?”
Then up she flipped and down she skipped
And down to the market square,
The finest shirt that she could find
Her lazy John to wear.
“Lazy John, lazy John, will you marry me?”
“How can I marry such a pretty girl as you
With me no hat to wear?”
Then up she flipped and down she skipped
And down to the market square,
The finest hat that she could find
Her lazy John to wear.
“Lazy John, lazy John, will you marry me?”
“How can I marry such a ugly girl as you
With a wife and kids at home?”
Or (“With all these fine clothes on.”)
January 30, 1972 Lenoir, NC
Down In A Willow Garden
Down in a willow garden
Where me and my love did meet;
There we set a courting,
My love dropped off to sleep.
I had a bottle of burglars wine,
But my true love did not know.
There I poisoned that dear little girl
Down under the banks below.
I stobbed her with a dagger
Which was a bloody knife,
I throwed her in the river
Which was an awful sight.
My father’s often told me
That money would set me free
If I would murder that dear little girl
Whose name was Rosalee.
Now he sets in his cabin door
Wiping his tear dimmed eyes,
Looking at his own dear son
Up on the scaffold high.
My race is done beneath the sun
And hell is waiting for me,
For I did murder that dear little girl
Whose name was Rosalee.
Coffee Grows On White Oak Sprouts
Clouds are looking dark,
Clouds are looking hazy,
Ever time I go that road,
Go to see my daisy.
Fly around my pretty little miss,
Fly around my daisy,
Fly around my pretty little miss,
Ye dern nigh run me crazy.
You can plow the one eared ox,
I’ll plow the muley.
Hand me down my scissor tailed coat
And I’ll go home with Julie.
Coffee grows on white oak sprouts,
And the rivers flows with brandy.
The streets are lined with ten dollar bills,
The girls as sweet as candy.
Round and round the mulberry bush,
The riper grows the berries.
Sooner young men court the girls,
Sooner they will marry.
Johnson Boys
Johnson boys, raised in ashes,
Didn’t know how to court old maids.
Turned their backs to hide their faces.
Step up pretty girls, don’t be afraid.
Step up pretty girls, don’t be afraid.
Free A Little Bird
I’m as free a little bird as I can be,
I’m as free a little bird as I can be.
I’ll build my nest in the ruffle of her dress
Where the bad boys cannot bother me.
I Used To Have A Sweetheart
I used to have a sweetheart,
A sweetheart, brave and true,
His hair was dark and curly,
His loving eyes were blue.
You know he’s like all other boys,
He had a friend and charms,
And oft, together they would go
For pleasure and for fun.
They persuaded him away one day.
I never knew what for.
They persuaded him away one day
To Spanish-American War.
He promised me he’d write to me,
This promise he kept true;
The last words he ever wrote
Was, “Soon be home to you.”
I read it with a cheerful mind
And with a bowed down head.
The next message I received
My darling boy was dead.
I’ll always keep this little ring
And his letters too.
I’ll always live a single girl
For the boy who was so true.
November 1967 Lower Creek Lenoir, NC
I Wish I Was A Mole In The Ground
Oh, I wish I was a mole in the ground,
I wish I was a mole in the ground.
If I was a mole in the ground, I’d root this mountain down,
I wish I was a mole in the ground.
I don’t like a railroad man,
I don’t like a railroad man.
A railroad man, he will kill you if he can
And drink up your blood like wine.
Oh, Tampy wants a nine dollar shawl,
Oh, Tampy wants a nine dollar shawl.
When I come over the hill with a forty dollar bill,
It’s, “Honey, where you been so long?
Oh Tampy, where you been so long?
Oh Tampy, where you been so long?
“I’ve been in the bend with the rough and rowdy men”
Oh Tampy, where you been so long?
“Oh Tampy, let your hair hang down,
Oh Tampy, let your hair hang down.
Let your hair hang down and your bangs all curl around,
Oh Tampy, let your hair hang down.
Oh, I wish I was a lizard in the spring,
I wish I was a lizard in the spring.
If I was a lizard in the spring I’d hear my darling sing,
I wish I was a lizard in the spring.
June 18, 1973
Cosby, Tennessee
I Went To The River
I went to the river and couldn’t get across,
I swapped my mule for an old grey hoss.
I jumped in and he couldn’t swim,
So I said, “Go, grey Jim.”
Darling Cora
Wake up, wake up, darling Cora,
What makes you sleep so sound?
The highway robbers are a coming,
They got your bed surrounded.
I went to meeting last Sunday,
Darling Cora, she was there.
The only change I saw in darling Cora,
Was the roll in her long, curly hair.
I’ll give you a ring, darling Cora,
To wear on your little left hand.
When I am dead and buried
Please change it to your right hand.
Last night as I lay on my pillow,
Last night as I lay on my bed.
Last night as I lay on my pillow
I dreamed darling Cora was dead.
The next time I saw darling Cora
She had a dram glass in her hand;
Drinking away her troubles
And going with a gambling man.
Wake up, wake up, darling Cora,
What makes you sleep so sound?
The robbers they are a coming,
The sun is almost down.
The next time I saw darling Cora
She was setting on the banks of the sea,
With two forty fours stropped around her body
And a banjo on her knee.
Go `way, go `way, darling Cora,
Stop hanging around my bed.
Pretty women’s run me crazy,
Corn liquor’s killed me dead.
The last time I saw darling Cora,
She was on the east bound train.
And the next time I saw darling Cora
She was wearing the ball and chain.
Don’t you hear the blue birds a singing?
Don’t you hear that lonesome sound?
They’re preaching Cora’s funeral
In some lonesome graveyard ground.
Go and dig a hole in the meadow,
Go and dig a hole in the ground.
Go and dig a hole in the meadow
To lay this poor gambler down.
August 31, 1972
Meet Me Tonight in the Moonlight
I wish I had someone to love me,
Someone to call me their own.
Oh, I wish I had someone to live with,
For I’m tired of living alone.
Refrain
Meet me tonight, sweetheart, meet me,
Meet me out in the moonlight alone,
For I have a sad story to tell you,
Must be told in the moonlight alone.
If I had the wings of an angel
Far away to the heavens I would fly.
I’d fly to the arms of my darling
And there I’d be willing to die.
Oh, it’s sad to be locked up in prison,
Oh, it’s sad to be locked up alone
With these cold iron bars all around me
And a pillow that’s made of a stone.
If I had a little ship on the ocean,
Loaded with silver and gold;
But, before my little darling should suffer
That ship would be anchored and sold.
Maw Maw Phillips
Lenoir, NC
1972
Bonnie Blue Eyes
Bye bye, little Bonnie blue eyes,
Bye bye, little Bonnie blue eyes,
You’re mine if you live, you’re mine if you die,
You’re my little Bonnie blue eyes.
Don’t cry, little Bonnie, don’t cry,
Don’t cry, little Bonnie, don’t cry,
For if you cry you’ll spoil your sweet blue eyes,
Don’t cry, little Bonnie, don’t cry.
Come home, little Bonnie, come home,
Come home, little Bonnie, come home,
You’re mine if you live, you’re mine if you die,
You’re my little Bonnie blue eyes.
My trunks done packed and gone,
My trunks done packed and gone,
My trunks done packed, it’ll never come back.
Goodbye, little Bonnie, goodbye.
I’ll see you again someday,
I’ll see you again someday,
I’ll see you again but the Lord He knows when,
Goodbye, little Bonnie blue eyes.
I’m going out West next Fall,
I’m going out West next Fall,
I’m going out West where times is best,
Goodbye, little Bonnie blue eyes.
Goodbye, little Bonnie, goodbye,
Goodbye, little Bonnie, goodbye.
You’ve told me more lies than the stars in the skies,
Goodbye, little Bonnie, goodbye.
November 1967
Lower Creek
Lenoir, NC
Sinful To Flirt
They say it is sinful to flirt,
They tell me my heart’s made of stone.
They tell me to speak to him kindly
Or leave the poor boy alone.
Oh, they say he is only a boy,
I’m sure he is older than me.
If the old folks would leave us alone,
How happy, how happy we’d both be.
I remember the night when he said
He loved me far more than his life.
He called me his darling, his pet
And asked me to be his dear wife.
“Oh darling,” I said with a smile,
“I’m sure I’ll have to say no.“
In rising, he gave me his hand,
And said, “Darling, I must go.”
“Oh Katie, why do you say no?
Oh, is your heart made of stone?”
He took from my hair a white rose
And left me a standing alone.
Next morning his body was found
Down by the pond at the mill.
By the river of life that runs
Down at the foot of the hill.
His eyes were forever closed,
His brow was damp and fair.
He held in his lips a white rose
Which he had took from my hair.
Oh Willie, my darling, come back,
I’ll ever be kind to you.
Oh Willie, my darling, come back,
I’ll ever be loving to you.
Maw Maw Phillips
November 1967
Shortening Bread
Two little niggers lying in the bed,
Heels cracked open like shortening bread.
Heels cracked open like shortening bread,
Heels cracked open like shortening bread.
Don’t my baby love shortening, shortening,
Don’t my baby love shortening bread?
Put on the skillet, put on the led (lid),
Mama’s gonna bake some shortening bread.
Mama’s gonna bake some shortening, shortening,
Mama’s gonna bake some shortening bread.
Sambo’s sick and Sambo’s dead,
Broke my fiddle over Sambo’s head.
Broke my fiddle over Sambo’s head,
Broke my fiddle over Sambo’s head.
The very last words that Sambo said,
“My whole family loves shortening bread.”
My whole family loves shortening, shortening,
My whole family loves shortening bread.”
Johnny Get Your Hair Cut Short Like Mine
Johnny get your hair cut short like mine,
Johnny get your hair cut short like mine.
Johnny get your hair cut short like mine.
Just like mine.
Bull frog’s jumped in the bottom of the well.
Swore, by God, he’d gone to hell.
Round Is The Ring
Round is the ring that has no end.
How hard it is to find a friend;
But when you find one just and true
Don’t change the old one for the new.
Refrain
Bring back my blue eyed boy to me,
Bring back my blue eyed boy to me.
Bring back my blue eyed boy to me
And I’ll forever happy be.
Last night my lover promised me
He’d take me across the dark blue sea.
But now he’s gone and left me alone,
Poor orphan girl without a home.
There is a place in this old town,
My love goes there and he sits down.
He takes that other girl on his knee
And tells her the things that he once told me.
Must I go bound while he goes free?
Must I love a boy that don’t love me?
Or must I act a childish part
And love a boy that broke my heart?
When I am sleeping `neath the sod
And o’er my head the willows weep;
T’is then, dear friend, and not before
That I will think of you no more.
1972
Somebody’s Tall And Handsome
Somebody’s tall and handsome,
Somebody’s eyes are blue.
Somebody’s hair is very dark,
Somebody’s kind and true.
Somebody came to see me,
Somebody came last night.
Somebody asked me to marry,
And of course I said alright.
Somebody called for papa,
Papa went out to see.
He came back with a smile on his face,
Glad to get rid of me.
Somebody called for mama,
Mama went out to see.
She came back with a tear in her eyes,
Somebody asked for me.
There’s going to be a wedding,
It’s gonna be in the Fall.
So, boys and girls get ready,
I’m gonna invite you all.
January 39, 1972
Oh, Girls Turn Down The Drinking Man
Oh, girls turn down the drinking man,
You know you may, you know you can.
For many a girl is sad today
Who wish with papa they had stayed.
MawMaw couldn’t remember any more of this , but she said it was part of a longer song.
I asked her if it was part of “The Drunkards Hell”, but she didn’t think it was. It does however, have the same tune or one very similar. Glenn Massey, formerly of Waynesville, NC and Robbinsville, sang this verse as part of his version of “The Drunkard’s Hell.”
Careless Love
It’s love, oh love, oh, careless love,
Love, oh love, oh careless love.
Love, oh love, oh careless love,
To love someone that don’t love you.
It’s gone and broke this heart of mine,
It’s gone and broke this heart of mine.
It’s gone and broke this heart of mine,
It’ll break that heart of yours sometime.
It’s when I wore my aprons low,
When I wore my aprons low.
When I wore my aprons low,
You’d follow me through rain and snow.
It’s now my apron strings won’t pin,
Now my apron strings won’t pin.
Now my apron strings won’t pin,
You pass my door and you won’t come in.
It’s I cried last night and the night before,
I cried last night and the night before.
I cried last night and the night before,
Gonna cry tonight and then I’ll cry no more.
It’s how I wish that train would come,
How I wish that train would come.
How I wish that train would come
And take me back where I come from.
I love my mama and papa too,
I love my mama and papa too.
I love my mama and papa too,
I’d leave them both for loving you.
Now, you see what careless love can do.
You see what careless love can do.
Now, you see what careless love can do,
Make you kill yourself and your sweetheart too.
Many a poor girl has left her home,
Many a poor girl has left her home.
Many a poor girl has left her home
For love, oh love, oh careless love.
Maw Maw Phillips
Lenoir, NC
August 30, 1972
Thinking Tonight Of My Blue Eyes
Oh, I am thinking tonight of my blue eyes
Who is sailing far over the sea.
Oh, I’m thinking tonight of my blue eyes,
And I wonder if he ever thinks of me.
Oh, you told me once, dear, that you loved me
And you said that we never would part.
But, a link in the chain has been broken,
Leaving me with a sad and broken heart.
Oh, it would been better for us both had we never
In this wide, wicked world never met.
For the pleasure we both seen together
I am sure, love, I’ll never forget.
Oh, meet me tonight, sweetheart, meet me,
Meet me out in the moonlight alone.
For I have a sad story to tell you,
Must be told by the moonlight alone.
1972
Little Mohee
As I went out sailing for pleasure, one day,
In sweet recreation to pass time away.
As I sat amusing myself on the grass,
Oh, who should I spy but a fair Indian lass?
This was all MawMaw could remember of “The Little Mohee.”
A Package Of Old Letters
There’s a package of old letters
In a little rosewood box,
With the key tied to this locket
Worn upon my heart unlocks.
Will you go and get them, sister?
And the letters read to me?
For oft times I’ve tried to read them,
But, for tears I could not see.
You have brought them, thank you, darling,
Now sit down upon my bed
And press gently to your bosom
My poor aching, throbbing head.
When I’m dead and in my coffin,
And my friends all standing `round,
And my little bed is ready
For the cold and silent ground.
Take the letters and the locket,
Place them gently o’er my heart.
But, the little ring he gave me
From my finger never part.
Tell him that I always loved him,
Seemed to me he proved untrue.
Tell him that I’ll ne’er forget him
Till I bid this world adieu.
And if you have ever finished,
I would gently fall asleep,
Fall asleep to wake with Jesus,
Dearest sister, do not weep.
November 1967
Lenoir, NC
He Was Once Some Mother’s Boy
As I strolled along one morning
On a cold, dark winter’s day,
I saw an old man staggering
And his hair was long and grey.
His clothes were old and tattered,
On his face no light of joy,
And I thought as I stood and watched him,
He was once some mothers boy.
Refrain
Once he played with happy children,
Once his heart was light and gay.
Once he knelt beside his mother
And she taught him how to pray.
Now his steps are slow and feeble,
On his face no light of joy,
And I thought as I stood and watched him,
He was once some mothers boy.
In a grave somewhere out yonder
Where the pretty daisies grow,
Lies a silent form, now sleeping,
And the night winds whisper low.
The moon is softly shining
And the grass waves to and fro;
Tis the grave of his old mother,
The one who loved her so.
Let us treat the old man kindly
As we walk life’s weary way.
While we now are young and happy,
We will all be old someday.
Though his clothes be old and tattered,
On his face no light of joy;
Yet, to us it does not matter,
He was once some mothers boy.
I found this among some of Maw Maw’s song ballets. I don’t recollect ever hearing her sing it, but the words are touching and sweet.
Billie Boy
Oh, where have you been, Billie boy, Billie boy?
Oh, where have you been, charming Billie?
I have been to seek a wife, she’s the pleasure of my life,
She’s a young girl and cannot leave her mammy.
Did she bid you to come in, Billie boy, Billie boy?
Did she bid you to come in, charming Billie?
Yes, she bid me to come in, she has whiskers on her chin,
She’s a young girl and cannot leave her mammy.
Did she set you out a chair, Billie boy, Billie boy?
Did she set you out a chair, charming Billie?
Yes, she set me out a chair, she has ringlets in her hair,
She’s a young girl and cannot leave her mammy.
Can she card and can she spin, Billie boy, Billie boy?
Can she card and can she spin, charming Billie?
She can card and she can spin, she can do most anything,
She’s a young girl and cannot leave her mammy.
Can she cook and can she sew, Billie boy, Billie boy?
Can she cook and can she sew, charming Billie?
She can cook and she can sew just as fast as she can go,
She’s a young girl and cannot leave her mammy.
Can she bake a chicken pie, Billie boy, Billie boy?
Can she bake a chicken pie, charming Billie?
She can bake a chicken pie quick as a cat can wink its eye,
She’s a young girl and cannot leave her mammy.
Can she row the boat ashore, Billie boy, Billie boy?
Can she row the boat ashore, charming Billie?
She can row the boat ashore and about a dozen more,
She’s a young girl and cannot leave her mammy.
How tall is she, Billie boy, Billie boy?
How tall is she charming Billie?
She’s as tall as a pine and as slim as a pumpkin vine,
She’s a young girl and cannot leave her mammy.
How old is she, Billie boy, Billie boy?
How old is she charming Billie?
Twice six, twice seven, twenty eight and eleven,
She’s a young girl and cannot leave her mammy.
This is as close to my memory of Maw Maw’s singing of this song as I can get.
I didn’t write down the words as she sang it or record it. As a child in school we used to sing this so much that it never occurred to me to record it when Maw Maw sang it. As I recall, her tune was slightly different than the way we sang it in school. Sometimes in looking for big things it’s easy to miss or take for granted little things that might be jewels as bright as any.
Roaming Gambler
I am a roaming gambler, I gambled down in town,
Whenever I met with a deck of cards
I laid my money down, laid my money down.
I went down to Washington, not many more weeks than three,
Till I fell in love with a pretty little girl
And she fell in love with me, she fell in love with me.
She took me in her parlor, she cooled me with her fan,
She whispered low, in her mothers ear,
“I love that gambling man, I love that gambling man,”
“Dear daughter, oh, dear daughter,
How can you treat me so, to leave your poor old mother
And with the gambler go, and with the gambler go?”
“Oh mother, oh, dear mother, you know I love you well,
But the love I have for the gambling man
No human tongue can tell, no human tongue can tell.”
I hear the train a coming,
A coming `round the curve,
A whistling and a blowing and straining every nerve, and straining every nerve.
“Oh mother, oh, dear mother, I’ll tell you if I can,
If you ever see me coming back again
I’ll be with the gambling man, be with the gambling man.”
Oh Where Is My Sweetheart?
Oh, where is my sweetheart? I am sure I can’t tell,
I’m sure I can’t tell, I’m sure I can’t tell.
Oh, where is my sweetheart? I am sure I can’t tell,
He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone.
He told me that he loved me and he told me a lie,
He told me a lie, he told me a lie.
He told me that he loved me and he told me a lie,
He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone.
I told him I loved him and I told him the truth,
I told him the truth, I told him the truth.
I told him I loved him and I told him the truth,
He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone.
God bless him I love him and I wish he was here,
I wish he was here, I wish he was here.
God bless him I love him and I wish he was here,
He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone.
Well, now I am married and it’s cornbread and peas,
It’s cornbread and peas, it’s cornbread and peas.
Well, now I am married and it’s cornbread and peas,
He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone.
1968
I Come Home The Other Night
I come home the other night as drunk as I could be.
I found a horse standing in the stable where my horse ought to be.
“Come here my little wifey, `splain this thing to me
How come a horse a standing in the stable where my horse ought to be?”
“You old fool, you blind fool, can’t you never see?
That’s only a milk cow my granny sent to me.”
I traveled and I traveled many miles or more,
A saddle on a milk cow’s back I never did see before.
I come home the other night as drunk as I could be.
I found a hat a hanging on the rack where my hat ought to be.
“Come here, my little wifey, `splain this thing to me.
How come a hat a hanging on the rack where my hat ought to be?
“You old fool, you blind fool, can’t you never see?
That’s only a chamber pot my granny sent to me.”
I traveled and I traveled many miles or more,
But a John B. Stetson chamber pot I never did see before..
I come home the other night as drunk as I could be.
I found a shirt hanging on the rack where my shirt ought to be.
“Come here my little wifey, `splain this thing to me.
How come a shirt a hanging on the rack where my shirt ought to be?”
“You old fool, you blind fool, can’t you never see?
That’s only a quilt top my granny sent to me.”
I traveled and I traveled many miles or more,
Buttons on a quilt top I never did see before.
I come home the other night as drunk as I could be,
I found pants a laying on the chair where my pants ought to be.
“Come here my little wifey, `splain this thing to me.
How come pants a laying on the chair where my pants ought to be?”
“You old fool, you blind fool, can’t you never see?
That’s only a dish rag my granny sent to me.”
I traveled and I traveled many miles or more,
A zipper on a dish rag I never did see before.
I come home the other night as drunk as I could be,
I found a head a laying on the pillow where my head ought to be.
“Come here my little wifey, `splain this thing to me.
How come a head a laying on the pillow where my head ought to be?”
“You old fool, you blind fool, can’t you never see?
That’s only a cabbage head my granny sent to me.”
I traveled and I traveled many miles or more,
A moustache on a cabbage head I never did see before.
The Crow Is Black
The crow is black you know, my love,
It surely would turn white.
If ever I prove false to you
Bright day will turn to night.
Bright day will turn to night, my love,
Believe me what I say.
You are the darling of my heart
Until my dying day.
Until my dying day.
Oh, who will make your bed, my love?
And who will dress it neat?
And who will hold you in their arms
If you, no more I see?
If you no more I see.
I wish I were ten thousand miles,
Or on some distant shore,
Or down in some lone valley place
Where the wild beasts howl and roar.
Where the wild beasts howl and roar.
1972
The Drunkard's Hell
Twas on a dark and starless night
I saw and heard an awful sight;
I thought I seen a gulf below
Where all poor, dying drunkards go.
I started on, got there at last,
I thought I’d take a social glass.
I picked it up and stirred it well
Until I thought of a drunkards hell.
I dashed it out and left the place
And sought to find redeeming grace.
The very moment grace begun
Ten thousand joys within me sprung.
I started home to change my life
With my long neglected wife.
I found her weeping by the bed
Because her little babe was dead.
I told her not to mourn nor weep,
Her little babe was just asleep.
It’s little soul had fled away
To dwell with Christ in endless day.
I took her by her pale white hand;
She was so weak she could not stand.
I laid her down and breathed a prayer
That God might bless and save us there.
I started on to Temperance Hall
To make a pledge with them all.
They met me with a welcome hand
And took me in their Temperance band.
Five sober years have flown away
Since first I bowed my head to pray.
And now I lead a better life
With a good home and a loving wife.
1972
My Dear Sweetheart
Dark is the color of my true loves hair,
His cheeks are like some rosy fair.
The sweetest face and the neatest hands;
I love the ground whereon he stands.
I love my love and well he knows
I love the ground whereon he goes.
If you no more on earth I see,
I wouldn’t serve you like you did me.
The winter’s passed, the leaves are green;
The time is passed that we have been.
But yet I hope the time will come
When you and I will be as one.
My dear sweetheart, so fare you well,
You slighted me but I wish you well.
If you, on earth no more I see,
I wouldn’t treat you like you did me.
I’ll go to Christ for to mourn and weep,
But, satisfied I cannot sleep.
You turned me away and broke my heart.
Oh, how can I from you depart?
My dear sweetheart, my harmless dove,
I hope we’ll meet in a world above,
And there in peace forever to dwell,
My dear sweetheart, so fare you well.
A many an hour I’ve spent with you;
But I never knew you was not true.
I’ve found it out, I cried aloud,
And I must die in all this crowd.
You are all for this to blame,
That I must die in grief and shame.
But, after death I will go home,
You’ll think of me, you’ve done me wrong.
The pain of love no tongue can tell,
No mind can think, no heart can sell;
But I’ll tell you in a few short lines,
It’s worse than death ten thousand times.
Come all sweethearts from east to west,
To view my grave while I’m at rest.
Come all sweethearts from far and near,
Don’t lose your lives for they are dear.
Dear relations all around,
I’m going to Heaven to wear a crown.
And there, in peace, forever to dwell,
My dear sweetheart, so fare you well.
June 18, 1973 Newport, Tennessee
Maw Maw would usually sing the first three lines of “Dark Is he Color Of My True Loves Hair” as the beginning of this song with its quite different tune. I think, after examining it and comparing it to another folk song, sometimes called “My Dear Sweetheart”, that they are really two distinct songs although having some of the same words.
Be Home Soon Tonight My Dear Boy
One night I went home, dear mother was sick
With fever and torture and pain.
She said, “My dear boy, take this motto I give,
I never may give it again.”
Refrain
“Be home soon tonight my dear boy,
Be home soon tonight my dear boy.
When going away dear mother would say,
“Be home soon tonight my dear boy.”
And when I returned from my nice world of fun
I found that dear mother was dead.
`T was then the cold chills through my body did run
When I thought of the last words she said.
So many dear boys and precious girls too,
Are grieving their parents today.
Forgetting their love and long, watchful care,
Not heeding the words that they say.
Fond Affection
Once I loved a fond affection,
Once my thoughts were all of you,
Till a blue eyed girl , she came between us,
Then you cared no more for me.
Refrain
Go and leave me if you want to,
Never let me cross your mind,
For in your heart you love another
And in my grave I’d ruther be.
We have met and we have parted,
We have spoke our last goodbye,
For you have broken the promise you made me
When we met on the mountains high.
Though I loved you, dearly loved you
More than all this world can know,
But you broke the trust you plighted,
Now you may forever go.
Here is your ring, I pray you take it,
Give it to the one you love.
My poor heart you have broken,
Oh, you know that you have sinned.
You have broke the heart you’ve cherished,
You have doomed me day by day.
You have faults, but I’ll forgive you,
But forget, I never may.
Many a night with you I’ve rambled,
Many a night with you I’ve spent.
I thought I had your heart forever,
But I found it was only lint.
Many a night while you lay sleeping,
Dreaming of the one you love,
And me, poor girl, all broken hearted,
Listening to the lonesome dove.
Poor Ellen Smith
Poor Ellen Smith, how was she found?
With a ball through her heart lying cold on the ground.
Poor Ellen Smith, true as a dove,
Where did she ramble, who did she love?
Nobody’s Darling On Earth
Out in this old world alone,
Walking about in the street;
Asking for pennies and bread,
Begging for something to eat.
Penniless, friendless, and poor,
Nothing but sorrow I see.
I’m nobody’s darling,
Nobody cares for me.
Often at night when I kneel,
Lifting my sorrowful eyes;
Asking my mother to smile
Down on her child from the skies.
Then I forget all my grief.
Mother in Heaven I see.
There I’ll be somebody’s darling,
Somebody will care for me.
January 30, 1972
The Sweetest Thing I Ever Done
The sweetest thing I ever done,
I served the Lord when I was young.
I’m happy, I’m happy, oh, may the Lord continue with me.
I do believe without a doubt
That Christians have a right to shout.
I’m happy, I’m happy, oh, may the Lord continue with me.
I’ve never been there, but I’ve been told
The gates are pearl and the streets are gold.
I’m happy, I’m happy, oh, may the Lord continue with me.
If you get there before I do
Just tell my friends I’m a coming too.
I’m happy, I’m happy, oh may the Lord continue with me.
Roaming Gambler
I am a roaming gambler, I gambled down in town,
Whenever I met with a deck of cards
I laid my money down, laid my money down.
I went down to Washington, not many more weeks than three,
Till I fell in love with a pretty little girl
And she fell in love with me, she fell in love with me.
She took me in her parlor, she cooled me with her fan,
She whispered low, in her mother's ear,
“I love that gambling man, I love that gambling man,”
“Dear daughter, oh, dear daughter,
How can you treat me so, to leave your poor old mother
And with the gambler go, and with the gambler go?”
“Oh mother, oh, dear mother, you know I love you well,
But the love I have for the gambling man
No human tongue can tell, no human tongue can tell.”
I hear the train a coming,
A coming `round the curve,
A whistling and a blowing and straining every nerve, and straining every nerve.
“Oh mother, oh, dear mother, I’ll tell you if I can,
If you ever see me coming back again
I’ll be with the gambling man, be with the gambling man.”
I Wish I was A Single Girl Again
Oh, when I was single, for marriage did I crave,
Now I am married, Lord, it’s troubled to my grave.
Lord, don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
Lord, don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
When I was single, my shoes they did squeak,
Now I am married, my shoes they do leak.
Lord, don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
Lord, don’t I wash I was a single girl again?
When I was single, I eat biscuits and pie,
Now I am married, it’s eat cornbread or die.
Lord, don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
Don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
When I was single I dressed mighty fine.
Now I am married, Lord, go ragged all the time.
Lord, don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
Lord, don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
It’s clothes to wash and spring to go to,
When you are married, Lord, you’ve got it all to do.
Lord, don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
Lord, don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
Two little babies a crying for bread,
With none to give them I wish I was dead.
Lord, don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
Don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
Wash the young-uns and send them to school.
Along comes a drunkard and calls them a fool.
Lord, don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
Lord, don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
When my husband comes home it’s a fuss and a row,
Them blame little babies are all crying now.
Lord, don’t I wish I was a single girl again?
Don’t I wish I was a single girl again? 1972
Come In Little Stranger
“Come in, little stranger,” I said
As she stepped at my half opened door,
With a blanket pinned over her head,
Just reached from the basket she bore.
A look full of innocent and modest
Fell from her pretty blue eyes
As she said, I’ve matches to sell
And hope you are willing to buy.
“A penny a bunch is the price,
I hope you’ll not find it too much.
They’re tied up so even and nich
And ready to light at a touch.”
“I asked, “What’s your name, little girl?”
“Mary”. She said, “Mary Dow”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“My father was lost in the deep,
The ship never got to the shore.
My mother is sad and will weep
To hear the wind blow and sea roar.”
She sits there beside
Her poor sick Willie’s bed.
She paid all the money for food
So, I’ll sell matches for bread.”
“Fly home, little birdie, fly home,
Full of innocent to your nest,”
I took all the matches she had,
And Mary may tell you the rest.”
1967
Lower Creek
Lenoir, NC
Two Little Children
Two Little Children, a boy and a girl
Sat by an old church door.
The little girls feet were as brown as the curl
That fell on the dress she wore.
The little boy’s cot was all tattered annd torn,
And tears shone in his bright eyres.
“Why don’t you run home to your mama?” I said,
And this was the maiden’s reply.
“Mama’s in heaven, angels took her away,
Left Jim and I all alone.
We came here to sleep at the close of the day
”For we have no mama, nor home.”
“Papa was lost in the sea long ago,
We waited all night on the shore,
For he was a life saving captain, you know,
But he never came home any more.”
“Then mama got sick, angels took her away,
They said to a home warm and bright.
She said she’d return for her darlings someday,
Perhaps she is coming tonight.”
“We can’t earn our bread, we’re too little,” she said.
“Jim’s five and I’m only seven.
We have no one to love us since papa is dead
And our darling mama’s in Heaven.”
The sexton came early to ring the church bells,
He found them beneath the snow, white.
For the angels made room for two orphans to dwell
In Heaven with mama that night.”
After The Ball
A little girl climbed on an old man’s knee,
Begged for a story, “Do, uncle, please.
Why are you single, why you live alone?
Have you no babies, have you no home?”
“I had a sweetheart long years ago,
Where she is now, pet, you soon will know.
Listen to my story, I’ll tell it all;
I broke her heart, pet, after the ball.”
Refrain
After the ball is over, after the break of dawn,
After the dancer’s leaving, after the stars are gone.
Many a heart was aching, if we but knew it all;
Many a hope had vanished after the ball.
“Bright lights were flashing in the grand ball room.
Softly the music played a sweet tune.
There stood my sweetheart, my love, my own;
Give me some water, leave me alone.”
“When I came back, pet, there stood a man,
Kissing my sweetheart as lovers can.
Down fell the glass, pet, broken, that’s all,
Just as my heart was after the ball.”
“Long years passed by, pet, I never wed,
True to my sweetheart though she was dead.
She tried to tell me, tied to explain,
I wouldn’t listen, pleadings in vain.”
“One day a letter came from that man.
He was her brother, so the letter ran.
That’s why I’m single, you know it all,
I broke her heart, pet, after the ball.”
November 1967
Lower Creek
Lenoir, NC
The Wedding Bells Were Ringing
The wedding bells were ringing on a moonlight winter’s night.
The church was decorated all within was gay and bright.
A mother with her baby came and saw the lights aglow.
She thought of how those same bells chimed for her three years ago.
“I’d like to be admitted, siir,” she begged the sexton old.
“Just for the sake of baby, to protect him from the cold.”
But he told her that the wedding was for the rich and the grand.
And with the eager, anxious crowd outside she’d have to stand.
Refrain
While the wedding bells were ringing, while the bride and groom were there,
Marching up the aisle together as the organ pealed an air.
Telling tales of warm affection, vowing never more to part.
Just another fatal wedding, just another broken heart.
She begged the sexton once again to let her step inside.
“For baby’s sake you may come in,” the grey haired man replied.
“If anyone knows reason why this couple should not wed,
Speak now, or else, forever hold your peace,” the preacher said.
“I must object,” the woman cried, her voice so meek and mild.
“The bridegroom is my husband, sir, and this our little child.”
”What proof have you?” the preacher asked, “My baby, sir,” she cried.
And knelt to pray to God in Heaven, the little one had died.
Refrain
The parents of the bride then took the outcast by the arm.
“We’ll care for you through life,” they said, “You’ve saved our child from harm.”
The parents, bride , and outcast wife in a carriage rolled away,
The bridegroom died by his own hand before the break of day.
No wedding feast was spread that night, two graves were made next day.
In one the little baby and in one the father lay.
The story has been oft times told by firesides warm and bright,
Of bride and groom and outcast wife and that fatal wedding night. 1972
Come Brethren and Sisters
Come brethren and sisters and hear me relate,
And I will inform you of my present stare.
Though oft I have called sweet Jesus my own,
I now feel dejected, like one left alone.
How backward in duty, how lifeless I be;
The smiles of my Savior how seldom I see.
I scarcely in Zion can raise a sweet song.
My harp on the willows now seems to be hung.
I know prayer’s a duty I owe to my Lord,
It is enjoin-ed in His holy word.
But, when I attempt it I’ve no heart to pray.
My thoughts are so wandering and oft times astray.
When I read the scriptures, instructions to gain,
Tis but a small portion that I can retain.
They seem so mysterious, so dark to my view,
I can’t understand them as I wish to do.
In all my performance, how short I do fall.
I’m pining, I languish, and barren withal.
I seem like a tree that encumbers the ground.
The leaves make appearance, but no fruit is found.
My moments are lonesome, small comfort I find;
Dark clouds hover o’er me and darken my mind.
This cold, dreary winter with tempest do blow;
I’m chilled with the cold and in darkness I go.
Disperse this thick darkness, oh Jesus, my friend,
And cause this cold winter in summer to end.
Thy souls cheering presence to me now restore
And give me my harp from the willows once more.
Lily White Robe
I’m only a pilgrim here below
While journeying through this desert sand.
But, after awhile, oh yes, I know
I’ll wear a white robe in the glory land.
Refrain
I’ll wear a white robe, I’ll wear a white robe,
And sing with the angel band.
Just inside the gate where loved ones wait
I’ll wear a white robe in glory land.
My Bible tells me the Lord has gone `fore me
To prepare a mansion grand.
So, trusting in Him, I’ll follow on,
I’ll wear a white robe in glory land.
Though often on te way I weary grow,
A hidden man seem His guiding hand.
His child He will not forsake,
I’ll wear a white robe in glory land.
Though only a beggar I may be all bleeding,
And sore my feet and hand.
The Father above has promised me
I’ll wear a white robe in glory land.
Maw Maw sent me the song ballet of this in the mail. She said she learned this from her son-in-laws father at Oak Ridge, Tennessee. He was very old when he sang it for her. She said he was sick and sang pitifully, but that the tune was very pretty. The man was a Holy Roller and learned the sonng long ago.
While Nature Was Sinking
While nature was sinking in stillness to rest,
The last beams of sunlight shone dim in the west;
O’er fields by the moonlight my wandering feet
Sought in quietude’s hour a place of retreat.
While passing a garden, I paused, then drew near,
A voice faint and plaintive arrested my ear;
The voice of the sufferer affected my heart,
In agony pleading the poor sinner’s part.
In offering to Heaven his pitying prayer,
He spoke of the torments the sinner must bear;
His life, for a ransom He offered to give,
That sinners redeemed in glory might live.
So deep were His sorrows, so fervent His prayer,
That down o’er His bosom rolled sweat, blood and tears;
I wept to behold Him, I asked Him His name,
He answered `tis Jesus, from Heaven I came.
I am thy redeemer, for thee I must die,
This cup is most bitter but cannot pass by;
Thy sins like a mountain are laid upon me,
And all this deep anguish I suffer for thee.
I heard with deep anguish the tale of His woe,
While tears like a fountain of waters did flow;
The cause of His sorrow to hear Him repeat,
Affected my heart and I fell at His feet.
I trembled with horror and loudly did cry,
Lord, save a poor sinner, O, save or I die;
He smiled when He saw me, and said to me, live,
Thy sins, which are many, I freely forgive.
How sweet was that moment He bade me rejoice;
His smile, O, how pleasant, how charming His voice.
I fled from the garden to spread it abroad,
I shouted salvation and glory to God.
I’m now on my journey to mansions above,
My soul’s full of glory, of light, peace and love;
I think of the garden, the prayers and the tears
Of that loving Saviour who banished my fears.
The day of bright glory is rolling around,
When Gabriel descending, the trumpet shall sound,
My soul then in rapture of glory shall rise,
To gaze on the Saviour with unclouded eyes.
My Head And Stay Is Called Away
My head and stay is called away,
And I am left alone;
My husband dear, who was so near,
Is fled away and gone.
It breaks my heart, `tis hard to part
With one who was so kind;
Where shall I go to vent my smart,
Or ease my troubled mind?
In wisdom’s ways we spent our days,
Much comfort we did find;
And he is gone, in dust he lays,
And I am left behind.
Naught can I find to ease my mind,
In things which are below;
For earthly toys but vex my joys,
And aggravate my woe.
But I’ll repair to Jesus, where
I’ll ease my troubled breast;
To Christ above, who is my Lord,
And my eternal rest.
And, O, that He would send for me,
And call my spirit home,
To worlds of rest, among the blest
Where troubles never come.
This was usually sung at a husband's funeral.
Come My Dear Friends
Come, my dear friends, and mourn with me,
In my afflicted state;
I am bereaved, as you may see.
Of my dear loving mate.
Her heart was bound with mine by love,
Good works for to maintain;
But she is gone to Christ above,
Forever there to reign.
My loss is great, to lose my mate;
I’m like the lonesome dove;
I’ll go alone, and sigh, and mourn
My dear and absent love.
My children cry, no mother by
To take them on her knee;
The breach is great, it doth create
Much grief, as all may see.
But why should I lament my case,
Since God hath thought it best
To take her soul from hence away
To its eternal rest?
Since it is so, let sorrows go;
My God hath sent His rod.
He doth His will, I must be still,
And know that He is God.
This song was for the wife, as the words make evident.
Alas How Changed That Lovely Flower
Alas, how changed that lovely flower
Which bloomed and cheered my heart;
Fair, fleeting comfort of an hour,
How soon we’re called to part.
And shall my bleeding heart arraign
That God, whose ways are love,
Or vainly cherish anxious pain
For her who rests above.
No, let me rather humbly pay
Obedience to His will,
And with my inmost spirit say,
“The Lord is righteous still.”
From adverse blasts and lowering storms
Her favored soul He bore;
And with yon bright, angelic forms,
She lives to die no more.
Why should I vex my heart, or fast?
No more she’ll visit me;
My soul will mount to her at last,
And there my child I’ll see.
Prepare me, blessed Lord, to share
The bliss Thy people prove;
Who round thy glorious throne appears,
And dwell in perfect love.
This, of course, was sung at the funeral of a child.
When Those We Love Are Snatched Away
When those we love are snatched away
By death’s resistless hand,
Our hearts the mournful tribute pay
Which pity must demand.
While pity prompts the rising sigh,
O, may this truth impressed
With awful power, I too, must die,
Sink deep in every breast.
Let this vain world engage no more;
Behold the gaping tomb.
It bids us seize the present hour,
Tomorrow death may come.
The voice of this alarming scene
May every heart obey;
Nor be the heavenly warning vain
Which calls to watch and pray.
O, let us fly, to Jesus fly,
Whose powerful arm can save;
Then shall our hopes ascend on high,
And triumph o’er the grave.
Great God, Thy sovereign grace impart,
With cleansing, healing power;
This only can prepare the heart
For death’s surprising hour.
This song was for departing friends.
The Old Church Yard
Oh, come, come with me, to the old church yard,
I well know the path through the soft green sward;
Friends slumber there, we were wont to regard,
And we’ll trace out their names, in the old church yard.
Oh, mourn not for them, their grief is o’er,
Weep not for them, they weep no more,
For deep is their sleep, though cold and hard,
Their pillows may be in the old church yard.
I know it seems vain when friends depart,
To speak kind words to the broken heart.
I know that the joys of life seem marred
When we follow their steps to the old church yard.
But were I at rest, beneath yon tree,
Why should you weep, dear friend, for me?
It’s I am way worn and sad, oh, why then retard
The rest that I seek in the old church yard?
It’s our friends linger there, in the sweetest repose,
Released from the world’s sad bereavements and woes;
And where should I rest with the friends I regard
In quietude sweet in the old church yard ?
It’s we’ll rest in the hope of that bright day
When beauty shall spring from the prisons of clay,
When Gabriel’s voice and the trump of the Lord,
Shall awaken the dead in the old church yard.
It’s oh, weep not for me for I’m ready to go
To that heavenly rest where no tears ever flow.
It’s I fear not to enter that dark, lonely ward;
For soon I shall rise from the old church yard.
Yes, soon I shall join that heavenly band
Of glorified souls at my Savior’s right Hand;
Forever to dwell in bright mansions prepared
For saints, who shall rise from the old church yard.
I was working on a notebook of Maw Maw’s songs in October, 1980 and had written the words to “The Old Church Yard”, when, a few days later, my cousin, Janette McMillon, one of Maw Maw’s grand daughters called to tell me that Maw Maw had died. She was in the Maryville, Tennessee Hospital, when, while going to the bathroom she fell in the floor. A blood clot set up and in a few minutes she had a heart attack. She was crying,
“The bees, the bees are stinging.” It was the pain in her left arm caused by the attack. I’m sure that in Maw Maw’s mind she thought she was being stung.
It seemed ironic that this happened just after I’d written down the words to this song, for it was her favorite of all the meeting house songs. Mine too. I was asked to sing at her funeral, but I couldn’t. The memory of Maw Maw Mae is still so sweet that I sometimes feel like crying.
Maw Maw learned some of her meeting house songs at the Primitive Baptist church in the McMillan Settlement, where she grew up. Later, she learned some of them at Camp meetings at Hartford, Tennessee. Of course, as the years went by and radio and phonographs came into the area she learned any number of gospel songs from the 20th century as well as country and bluegrass tunes. But it was always the older “love songs” that she cared for the most. Those, she learned from many sources. Some, she learned first from her mother, Aunt Becky Jenkins (nee Shults) who learned songs from her parents and others. Maw Maw’s half brother, Joe Fowler, taught her a couple of songs. Many others she learned from relatives and friends who would come and visit and they would go to the woods and sing for hours. Maw Maw didn’t sing much at home. Her stepfather, Dugan Jenkins, was a Civil War veteran and was very high strung. He would grab at his arms and cry, “Them go-devils is biting me.” I suppose he had been shell shocked in the war and it was his nerve endings that were the problem. Maw Maw said you couldn’t hardly read a book if Dugan was in the room; he couldn’t stand to hear the pages being turned.
Maw Maw’s mother, Rebecca Shults, was first married to Elijah “Lige” Fowler. She had two sons by him. Lige took up with Elizabeth Greene and run “Maw” (Aunt Becky) off. She, ever after would refer to her as “Ole Liz Greene, the bitch!” She tried to get the boys, Joe and , but Lige stumped her with the law. Then Aunt Becky hired herself out to a widow man, John Harrison, who lived on Lower Cosby, to make a little money. John's father, Nathaniel Harrison, was first married to my great grandfather, Anse McMillon,s sister Louise (pronounced in those days as “Lou-eyes”). After she died he married a Ball who had John and other children. John had a number of children by his wife and needed help raising them and with the housework. So Aunt Becky took them on and one thing led to another until she became pregnant with Mae and then he wouldn’t marry Aunt Becky after promising her that he would. And so, she was put out again and had Mae “by herself” as the saying goes. She then went to Newport where she got a job working at the railroad commissary taking in washing for the railroad men. As time went by she became acquainted with a young man from Morristown, Tennessee by the name of Esau Mantooth. Years later, Mae’s children would laugh about his name. Esau eventually asked Aunt Becky to marry him. He had no children of his own and promised to take care of Mae as if she was his. Aunt Becky accepted and Esau was to come to Newport on a train on a certain weekend and pick up Aunt Becky and Mae and take them back with him to Morristown. In the meantime abunch of gypsy’s came to town and Aunt Becky took Maw Maw to see them. There was a fortune teller there and Aunt Becky went in to get her fortune told. The gypsy woman told her that she would marry an old man with a grey beard who’d come walking across the mountain on a stick (walking cane) and spend her life with him. Aunt Becky laughed and said, “Why, you’re crazy! I’m going to marry a young man whose coming on a train this weekend to get me and my daughter and take us to Morristown where we’ll get married.” “That’s what I see,” was all the gypsy woman said to that. Well, it just so happened that Esau Mantooth came down with the flu or some such sickness and couldn’t make it into town that weekend as he’s promised.
They found out too late that he’d written a letter and sent it to Aunt Becky, but it didn’t get there before the end of the week, so she thought she’d been double crossed again and packed up their things and moved back to Cosby to her parents home. A short time later, a friend of the family, Mitch Sutton, brought a friend to see Aunt Becky and he came across the mountain wearing a grey beard a walking on a stick and that’s the man Aunt Becky married. His name was Wilson Dugan Jenkins. He went by Dugan and he was a veteran of the Civil War on the Union side. He was a widow man and had a bunch of kids for Aunt Becky to raise, which she did, And she never married again.
Fond Affection
Once I loved with fond affection and I thought that he loved me;
But another girl persuaded and he cares no more for me.
Refrain
Go and leave me if you wish to, never let me cross your mind;
If you think I am so unworthy, go and leave me, never mind.
Many a time while you lay sleeping, dreaming at your sweet repose;
I, poor girl, lie broken hearted listening to the wind that blows.
Many a time with you I’ve wandered, many an hour with you I’ve spent;
When I thought you was mine forever, but I’ve found your heart is bent.
Now you are happy with another, one who has more gold than I;
You have proved to be false hearted, just because I am so poor.
Farewell friends and fond relations, fare thee well my false young man;
You have caused me all this sorrow, fare thee well and never mind.
They have told you some false stories, you believed them all they say;
You have faults, but I’ll forgive you, but forget I never may.
I have written you a letter to tell you that you are free;
From this hour and forever I shall care no more for thee.
One more word and all is over, Why were you unkind to me?
Tell me why you do not love me, tell me why it cannot be.
May your life be long and happy, May your troubles be but few;
May you find a rest in Heaven when your earthly task is through.
I found this among some papers and “song ballets'' of Maw Maw Mae Phillips. Mae Shults Phillips (1900-1980) sang me a version of “Fond Affection” when I was a teenager and it was a bit different than the one in her ballet of it. However, Maw Maw loved old songs and often through the years would sometimes learn other versions of songs she knew. Folks used to write down song ballets, fold them and put them in shoe boxes for safe keeping. Then, someone would borrow them, and, as often as not, fail to return them. This had happened to Maw Maw. She would seek songs where she could find them and this may be one she copied from someone else’s ballet or even from a book, although on examination it seems to have come straight from oral tradition.
Some Verses
Here I sit on a rolling punkin,
Come and kiss my uncle Dunkin.
When I was a young man I was a bold `un,
John’s got my new coat, I got his old `un.
Here I sit on flowers and daisy’s,
If you don’t kiss me I’ll go crazy.
Some verses Maw Maw remembered from school days.
Danville Girl
I got off at Danville, got struck on a Danville girl;
You can bet your life she’s out of sight, she wore the Danville curls.
She wore her hair on the back of her head like the high toned people do,
The next train that comes along I’ll bid this girl adieu.
“Oh lady, kind lady, don’t talk to me so rough,
Don’t think that I’m a hobo because I look so tough.”
She thrower her arms around my neck, says, “I love you as a friend,
But if I give you this to eat you’ll be bumming around again.”
Maw Maw Phillips February 1972
I Heard My Mother Weeping
The big courtroom was crowded as the jury heard my plea,
“I am not guilty of this crime you are accusing me.”
I guess no one believed me for they only turned away
To tell the judge their verdict; I bowed my head to pray.
I heard my mother weeping as the judge said, “Guilty, son.
I’ll have to give you lifetime for the crime that you have done.”
She cried, “Don’t take my darling, he means the world to me.
He’s all I have to live for, I pray you’ll set him free.”
“His father was a drunkard, went away, left us alone.
I worked to keep from starving and raise my darling son.
Now, if you take him from me, his face no more I’ll see.
Just put your son in my place, his mother here with me.”
The judge sat there with head bowed down, at first did not reply,
And then I saw him wiping a teardrop from his eyes.
He motioned to the jury, “This sentence can’t be done.
God bless you, darling mother, I still love you and my son.”
Maw Maw Phillips
September 5, 1972
From a song ballet written down by Dorothy E. Jenkins
March 15, 1950
Please Mommy, Stay Home With Me
A mother went out on a party,
She left at home her baby son.
He cried and begged her not to leave him,
But she would not give up her fun.
She kissed his cheeks and tried to soothe him,
But heeded not his childish plea.
She heard him call as she was leaving,
“Please, mommy, please stay home with me.”
The mother joined the merrymakers
And soon was lost in trifling joy.
The mellow tunes and flitting shadows
Made her forget her baby boy.
She danced and laughed and did some drinking,
The world for her was full of glee.
But now and then these words would haunt her,
“Please, mommy, please stay home with me.”
She left the party feeling dizzy,
The smell of drink was on her breath.
She hurried home to find her baby
In raging pain and nearing death.
The doctor came and looked on sadly,
The case was hopeless, he could see.
The baby died, these words repeating,
“Please, mommy, please stay home with me.”
[The mother now her life would forfeit,
To hear her baby’s voice again.
She grieves to think she rudely left him
To satisfy her wishes vain.
Now mothers, don’t neglect your duty,
This story should a lesson be.
Do not ignore your baby’s pleading,
“Please, mommy, please stay home with me.”]
Maw Maw Phillips September 5, 1972
From a song ballet sung by Chester Adkins
Companion Draw Nigh
Companion, draw nigh, they say I must die,
Early the summons has come from on high.
The way is so dark and yet I must go,
Oh, such sorrow you never can know.
Refrain
Only a prayer, only a tear,
Oh, if sister and mother were here.
Only a song that would comfort and cheer,
Only a word from the Book so dear.
Oh, can you not bow and pray for me now?
Sad the regret that we never know how
To come before God who only can save,
Leading in triumph through death and the grave.
And can you not sing a song of His love?
How He came down from the mansions above
To bleed and to die on Calvary’s tree,
Bringing salvation to sinners like me.
Alas, it is so, but thus it must be,
No word of comfort or promise for me.
To die without God, or hope in His Son,
Covered in darkness, bereaved and undone.
Oh, people of God who have His blest Word,
Will you not heed the command of your Lord?
And publish to all of Adam’s lost race,
Pardon, forgiveness, salvation through Grace. 1972
Edward
“Why Ed, you look so healthy now;
You dress so neat and clean;
I never see you drunk about.
Pray, tell me where you’ve been?
Pray, tell me where you’ve been?”
“Your wife and children all are well,
You once did use them strange.
Oh, you are kinder to them now,
How came this happy change?
How came this happy change?”
“It was a dream, a warning dream,
That Heaven sent to me,’
To snatch me from the drunkard’s curse,
Grim want and misery.
Grim want and misery.”
My wages all were spent on drink;
Oh, what a wretched view;
I almost broke my Mary’s heart,
And starved my children too.
And starved my children too.”
“What was my home or wife to me?
I heeded not her cry;
Her winsome smile has welcomed me
When tears bedimmed her eye.
When tears bedimmed her eye.”
“My children, too, have oft awoke.
“Oh, father dear,” they said,
“Poor mother has been weeping so,
Because we have no bread.”
“My Mary’s form did waste away;
I saw her sunken eye.
On straw my babes in sickness lay;
I heard their wailing cry.
I heard their wailing cry.”
“I laughed and sung in drunken joy
While Mary’s tears did stream;
Then like a beast I fell asleep
And had this warning dream.
And had this warning dream.”
“I thought once more I staggered home;
There seemed a solemn gloom.
I missed my wife, where can she be?
And strangers in the room.
And strangers in the room.”
“I heard them say, “Poor thing, she’s dead,
She led a wretched life.
For grief and sorrow broke her heart.
Who’d be a drunkard’s wife?
Who’d be a drunkard’s wife?”
“I saw my children weeping round.
I scarcely drew my breath.
They called and kissed her lifeless form,
Forever still in death.
Forever still in death.”
“Oh father, come and wake her up;
The people say she’s dead.
Oh, make her smile and speak once more
And we’ll never cry for bread.
And we’ll never cry for bread.”
“She is not dead,” I frantic cried
And rushed to where she lay
And madly kissed her once warm lips
Forever cold as clay.
Forever cold as clay.”
“Oh Mary, speak one word to me,
No more I’ll cause you pain,
No more I’ll break your loving heart
Nor ever get drunk again.
Nor ever get drunk again.”
“Oh Mary, speak, tis Edward’s voice.”
“And so I will,” she cried.
Then I awoke and Mary dear
Was standing by my side.
Was standing by my side.”
I pressed her to my throbbing heart
While tears of joy did stream.
And ever since have Heaven blest
For sending me that dream.
For sending me that dream.”
1972
Cindy
Went up on the mountain
To cut some sugar cane;
Run my finger in a peckerwoods hole
And out popped Lizer Jane.
Cindy in the summertime,
Cindy in the Fall;
If I can’t have Cindy all the time
I won't have her at all.
Refrain
Get along home, home, Cindy,
Get along home.
Get along home Cindy, Cindy,
I’m gonna leave you now.
Cindy got religion,
She’d had it twice before,
But when she hears my banjo play
She’s the first jumps on the floor.
Cindy went to meeting,
How happy she did shout.
She got so full of glory
She tore her stocking heels out.
If I had a needle and thread
As fine as I could sew,
I’d sew that girl to my side
And down the road I’d go.