In his sleeve notes to 'Native American Ballads' RCA Victor LPV-548, which contained the 9 September 1925 Dalhart recording of the song, and also in his 'Anglo-American Folksong Scholarship Since 1898' Rutgers Uni Press p283, Professor Wilgus referred to the role of Polk C. Brockman - the famous Atlanta scout for Okeh records who was intrumental in Fiddlin' John Carson being recorded in the first place - in the creation of the ballad by his, in effect, commissioning it from Jenkins. He wrote in the sleeve note:

The folk composer was stimulated by a commercial entrepreneur, Polk C. Brockman, who wired the blind newsboy-evangelist Andrew Jenkins of Atlanta, Georgia, requesting a song on the tragedy. The resulting composition is part of the widest American tradition. The song was spread largely through the performances of Vernon Dalhart (Marion Try Slaughter), a 'citybilly' who for a time captured a wide folk audience.

This is supported by Fiddlin' John's biographer, Gene Wiggins, in his 'Fiddlin' Georgia Crazy: Fiddlin' John Carson, His Real World and the World of His Songs' Uni of Illinois Press 1987 pp94-96. Wiggins notes that some 50,000 people had collected near the cave and 'a sort of a carnival atmosphere prevailed as rescue crews worked in shifts to dig through to Collins'. There were long stories in the papers about rescue operations and radio bulletins. Wiggins wrote:

Unless there were alternate endings to the original song, it was after Collins died in his cave from pneumonia that Polk Brockman, then in Florida, telegraphed Blind Andy Jenkins in Atlanta, and asked for a song. As we have noted, Jenkins was a preacher and one of Horace Carson's fellow newspaper vendors. According to Andy's stepdaughter Irene, who will be remembered as the person who transcribed John's records: 'We had listened to every bit of it on the radio. We were living it with the crowd that was trying to get Floyd out. When Mr Brockman wired and said he believed it would make a good song, Daddy got his old faithful guitar and went and sat down on the top step of the porch. Pretty soon he called me, and I went out there with my tablet and pencil. In a little while, we had the song in the mail. [G.Wiggins 'Fiddlin' Georgia Crazy' p95. Quote from Wiggins' interview with Irene Spain Futrelle on 1 November 1977]

Within two months of Floyd's death, the Okeh people were in Atlanta and called Fiddlin' John to the studio where he was presented with the words to the song. John recorded it to a tune that he would later use for 'The Storm That Struck Miami', though Wiggins suspects it had been used for something long before. Dalhart recorded it a few months later with the tune that Andy Jenkins had intended for it. Nevertheless, Fiddlin' John was the first to record what was to become a big hit and enter the folk tradition.

Wiggin's also notes [p96] that when Andy himself recorded the song ['Floyd Collins in Sand Cave' Okeh 40394], he used an 8-stanza version, while John's had only been 6 stanzas. According to Irene, there were originally 12 stanzas. Concerning what happened after Collins died, Wiggins quotes Andy's recording:

The mighty experts gathered, they sought to find a plan
To move poor Floyd's body from beneath the sand
It seemed a mighty struggle, but with hearts brave and stout
They finally, overcoming, brought Floyd's body out

This was fantasy and contradicts Andy's first stanza which has Floyd 'sleeping' in the cave. Any expert schemes were tried while Floyd was alive When he was found to be dead, they filled in the excavation and left him. Later the family reconsidered and employed some coal miners to dig him out, some 9 weeks after his death. Wiggins writes: 'Some accounts suggest that the main thing for "overcoming" was not any technical problems but the grisly sight of the body, ears chewed off by rats, and the smell'. Wiggins goes on to recount the story told in the previous post by Maggie Dwyer. He suggests that, against the venality that some people displayed, 'Polk Brockman, Andy Jenkins and John Carson all look good'. According to Irene, Andy was paid only for his recording - the common $25 fee - and never received anything as composer.

In relation to the 3 versions in the Brown Collection, referenced above by Masato, Wiggins writes:

[RW] Gordon was almost alone among folklorists of his time in his interest in commercial recordings. Commercial recordings of hillbillies were too new a thing in 1925 for folklorists to have adopted any general stance on them. In the 1930s and 1940s, without having heard any commercial hillbilly recordings to speak of, most folklorists would declare that there was nothing worth while on them. In the 1950s, folklorists [eds of Brown Collection] could print - without mention of the recordings - A, B and C versions of 'Floyd Collins' that probably had been taken, respectively, from the recordings of Vernon Dalhart, John Carson and Andy Jenkins. [G.Wiggins 'Fiddlin' Georgia Crazy' p94].

It wasn't until Archie Green's 'Hillbilly Music: Source and Symbol' appeared in the July-September 1965 edition of 'The Journal of American Folklore' that folklorists began to show any serious interest in commercially recorded 'hillbilly music' as a reservoir of vernacular music.

--Stewie.