Subject: Origins: George Collins / Johnny Collins Child 85
From:
GUEST,Kevin W. aka Reynard the Fox on Youtube
Date: 24 Aug 25 - 06:53 PM
Late 1930s West Virginia field recordings made by folklorist Louis Watson Chappell (1890–1981) have recently been made available for listening online on the WV University Libraries website:
https://folkmusic.lib.wvu.edu/
While exploring the collection I discovered quite a few seldom heard and interesting Child Ballads. Three recordings of The Cruel Mother (Child 20) with the rare "the more she washed the bloodier it got" stanza. A previously unknown to me Twa Sisters (Child 10) with the "wind and rain" refrain and the "three fiddlers at the king's court" ending. A fragment of Queen Jane (Child 170). A fragment of The Baffled Knight (Child 112). Two recordings of The Cruel Brother (Child 11). A recording of The Twa Brothers (Child 49) with the rare "what put the blood" Edward (Child 13) ending. Two fine versions of The Elfin Knight (Child 2). A version of The Fause Knight Upon the Road (Child 3) with an unusual "proud porter gay and the child gentleman" refrain. Three versions of The Wife of Usher's Well (Child 79) with the rare "so long since pride began" stanza. A version of Little Musgrave (Child 81) which closely resembles Captain Pearl R. Nye's unusual Ohio version. A version of Lord Thomas (Child 73) with the rare "where did you get the water" stanzas. A version of Lord Bateman (Child 53) with the rare "through his shoulder they bored a hole" stanza. A version of The Cherry Tree Carol (Child 54). And a traditional version of The Dreadful Ghost (Roud 568), a very rare broadside ballad. Incidentally I discovered it just a day after finding a recording of the same song in the Tom Munnelly Irish Folk Song Archive. There's a lot I'd like to transcribe and document properly.
One of the most exciting discoveries for me were 9 recordings of the rare Johnny Collins variant of Lady Alice (Child 85). A song both British and American folk musicians may be more familiar with under the title George Collins. I spent the weekend transcribing the 9 field recordings, wrote a short article about the song and made a video of every version available to me for the sake of comparison.
My video can be found here:
https://youtu.be/agfhXm4jpRI
Introduction - The Mysterious Johnny Collins Version of Lady Alice (Child 85):
Prof. Francis James Child titled this ballad Lady Alice (Child 85) and he didn't think much of it as all five texts known to him told a brief "boy dies, sweetheart dies of grief" story written in a burlesque style. It wasn't until the 20th century that more complete texts were collected from singers in Virginia, West Virginia and Pennsylvania in America since 1916 and in Hampshire and Suffolk in England since 1906. These texts shed a new light on the song, preserving the outlines of a more complex story.
A man (named George, Johnny, Giles or Young Collins) encounters a strange woman at a riverside washing a marble stone or a silken cloth. She commands him to come to her for his life will end soon. He jumps into the water and embraces and kisses her. We aren't told what happens between them. Next we find Collins riding (or swimming) home to his parents, asking for a cloth to bind his head, predicting his death the same night and requesting to be buried at the marble stone under his lover's hill or under her hall. His lover, (named Eleanor, Ellender, Fair Ellen or Lady Alice), sits in her room sewing silk or being dressed in silk. When she sees pallbearers passing by she enquires the dead man's name. Being told that it is Collins, her old true love, she requests his coffin be set down and opened. She kisses his cold lips one last time and dies of grief soon after.
There is considerable confusion over the identity of the mysterious woman washing at a riverside in most American Collins texts. Singers couldn't make sense of her and naturally concluded that she must be the same person as Collins' true lover, Fair Ellen. This is not the case as becomes clear by comparing the following story.
The song appears to go back to an earlier Scottish ballad known as Clerk Colvill (Child 42) in which Colvill's lady warns him to stay away from the mermaid at the stream. But he goes there anyways as he has done many times before. The mermaid sits at the stream washing her silken cloth. She welcomes him with pleasure. A part of the story is missing, we aren't told what happens between them. Judging from similar Scandinavian ballads (such as the Danish Elveskud) we may assume he revealed to her that he now has a lady love and intends to marry her, so he can no longer come to visit. As the ballad continues Colvill complains about a headache. The mermaid tells him to cut a piece off her silken cloth and wrap it around his head to ease the pain. He does so upon which the pain increases even more. She tells him that it will get worse until he dies. He strikes at her with his sword but she turns into a fish and swims away. Weakened he rides home to his parents and dies soon after. The ballad of Clerk Colvill (Child 42) ends where the burlesque Lady Alice (Child 85) begins.
As for how an ancient and seemingly little known Scottish supernatural ballad could be remade into the present song of which no proper text was recorded before the 20th century any guess is as good as mine. It seems clear that the longer Collins texts predate Prof. Child's burlesque Lady Alice and evolved out of or alongside Clerk Colvill in some way or another. No Collins texts were found in Scotland. At least three fragmentary texts (Maud Karpeles in 1929, Kenneth Peacock in 1952) were collected in Newfoundland, Canada. The existence of an Irish tradition at some earlier date is implied by the mention of Dublin town in American texts but none have been reported from there.
All the full Collins texts being similar but in varying states of corruption suggests a long circulation in oral tradition and a print origin. A broadside print seems likely but so far none has been found. Its origin and true meaning remain a mystery.
An excellent article on the American Johnny Collins texts was written by Pennsylvania born folklorist Samuel Preston Bayard (1908–1997):
http://www.bluegrassmessengers.com/the-johnny-collins-version-of-lady-alice--bay
West Virginia Field Recordings (1938 - 1947) by Louis Watson Chappell:
Johnny Collins - Sung by Mrs. Marshall Mullins and her twelve-year-old daughter Bibbie of Clay, Clay County, West Virginia, USA. Recorded by Louis Watson Chappell on September 21, 1940.
Link to original recording:
https://folkmusic.lib.wvu.edu/catalog/Chappell_63_Mullins_M_JohnnyCollins
The most well preserved text out of the nine recorded by folklorist Louis W. Chappell (1890–1981) in West Virginia. It must be Mrs. Mullins' daughter Bibbie singing on the record. Clearly the song was on the verge of disappearing when these field recordings were made in the late 1930s, with few, mostly older people left who heard it sung, and even fewer who could recall more than a stanza or two. It makes me happy to think that one of the last people who could sing it well in 1940 was a little girl who learned it from her mother.
Johnny Collins rode out through his fields one day
Where the trees and the wild flowers grew
And who did he spy but his own Fair Ellen
A-washing a white marble stone
She screamed, she cried, she screamed, she cried
And she held up her lily white hand
Crying, come here Collins, I pray you come here
Your life it is nigh at an end
He hugged her around her slender waist
And kissed both her cheeks and chin
Till the stars from heaven come twinkling down
To the spot where Collins jumped in
He ran, he ran, he ran, he ran
Till he came to his own father's door
Saying father, oh father, I pray let me in
I pray let me in once more
If I should die this very night
As I know in my mind I will
Go bury me under the white marble stone
At the foot of Fair Ellen's green hill
She sat alone in her own cottage door
All wrapped in her silk so fine
She spied the coffin a-coming so far
As far as her eyes could shine
Whose coffin, whose coffin, whose coffin, said she
Whose coffin is coming so fine?
It's young Johnny Collins, he is a clay corpse
He was a true lover of mine
Go bring me a sheet, a snowy white sheet
And trim it in lace so fine
Today it'll wave over Collins' grave
And tomorrow it'll wave over mine
Johnny Collins - Sung by Mrs. Arnie G. Evans of Laurel Dale, New Creek, Mineral County, West Virginia, USA. Recorded by Louis Watson Chappell on June 28, 1938.
Link to original recording:
https://folkmusic.lib.wvu.edu/catalog/Chappell_11_Evans_O_JohnnyCollins
Young Collins rode out in the fields one day
When the trees and the flowers were in bloom
When he spied his Fair Ellen, Fair Ellen so gay
A-washing the white marble stone
She screamed, she cried, she changed her voice
She threw up her lily white hand
Crying, Johnny, oh Johnny, come here, my dear
Your time is soon [by at hand]
He swam, he swam, he swam, he swam
Till he came to his own father's door
Oh father, oh father, let me in once more
Oh father let me in I pray
Fair Ellen was sitting in her own parlour door
All dressed in her silk so ... [record skips]
...bright coffin come roving along
More brighter than her own eyes could shine
Whose coffin, whose coffin, whose coffin is this
Whose coffin, she once more replied
It is young Johnny Collins, a pale white corpse
An old true lover of mine
She ordered the sheets to be brought right there
All trimmed in the laces so fine
Today it shall wave o'er young Collins' grave
But tomorrow it shall wave over mine
The news went round in Dub-a-lin's town
It was printed on Dub-a-lin's gate
That six fair maidens all died that night
And it was all over young Collins' fate
John Collins - Sung by W. R. Lowers of Ivydale, Clay County, West Virginia, USA. Recorded by Louis Watson Chappell on August 17, 1939.
Link to original recording:
https://folkmusic.lib.wvu.edu/catalog/Chappell_30_Lowers_N_JohnCollins
This text rationalises the confusing story into a drowning accident. Quite effectively, if I may say so. The Lakes of Coolfin aka The Drowning of Willie Leonard (Roud 189) comes to mind.
John Collins rode out so early one morn
[false start]
John Collins rode out so early one morn
When the fields and the flowers were in bloom
And there he spied his own true love
A-washing a white marble stone
He screamed and he screamed, he screamed, he cries
Come here, John Collins, my dear
Come here, John Collins, my dear, come here
I fear you will drown in there
He swam, he swam, he swam, haha
He swam to his own father's door
Saying father, dear father, I pray let me in
I pray let me in once more
If I should die this very night
As I think in my own mind I will
Go bury me down at the white marble stone
That sits up Fair Ellender's hill
Fair Ellender sits in her father's hall door
Gazing out on the flowers and fields
And there she spied a coffin a-coming
As far as her eyes could see
Whose coffin, whose coffin, whose coffin, she cries
Whose coffin so neat and so fine
'Tis young John Collins' clay cold corpse
And old true lover of mine
She ordered the snowy white sheets to be brought
All trimmed in white laces so fine
Today they will wave over Collins' grave
Tomorrow they'll wave over mine
The news went down to Dublin town
Was placed upon Dublin's gate
That six fair ladies they died last night
Were all for John Collins' sake
Johnny Collins - Sung by Nancy Hammonds of Richwood, Nicholas County, West Virginia, USA. Recorded by Louis Watson Chappell on August 16, 1947.
Link to original recording:
https://folkmusic.lib.wvu.edu/catalog/Chappell_78_Hammonds_O_JohnnyCollins
Young Collins walked out in the field one day
As the flowers were budding to bloom
And who should he spy but his own Fair Ellen
A-washing a white marble stone
Whose coffin, whose coffin, Fair Ellen then cried
Whose coffin so neat and so fine
'Tis young Johnny Collins' cold clay corpse
An old true lover of mine
She ordered the coffin be opened right there
As it landed on Dublin shore
That I may kiss his cold clay lips
He's often kissed mine before
The news went round o'er Dublin's town
'Twas written on Dublin's gate
That six fair maidens all died that night
And all for young Collins' sake
Young Collins - Sung by W. E. Day of Dryfork, Randolph and Tucker County, West Virginia, USA. Recorded by Louis Watson Chappell on September 5, 1938.
Link to original recording:
https://folkmusic.lib.wvu.edu/catalog/Chappell_18_Day_D_YoungCollins
Young Collins rode out one morning fair
To view the city and town
And there he spied his own true lover
A-washing a white marble stone
Hey-a-ma-haha, hey-a-ma-haha
He kissed both her cheeks and her chin
Till the stars from heaven come twinkling down
On the place where young Collins jumped in
John Collins - Sung by Lafe Cogar of Sand Ridge, Calhoun County, West Virginia, USA. Recorded by Louis Watson Chappell on August 11, 1939.
Link to original recording:
https://folkmusic.lib.wvu.edu/catalog/Chappell_29_Cogar_N_JohnCollins
This news went round to Dublin town
It was seen upon Dublin's gate
There was six, three, two lovers died last night
And it's all for John Collins' sake
He swam, he swam, he swam, haha
Till he came to his own father's door
Saying, father, dear father, I pray let me in
I pray let me in once more
George Collins - Sung by Albert Sutton of Sutton, Braxton County, West Virginia, USA. Recorded by Louis Watson Chappell on September 2, 1939.
Link to original recording:
https://folkmusic.lib.wvu.edu/catalog/Chappell_40_Sutton_L_YoungCollins
George Collins rode out in the fields one morning
All dressed in riches gay
But what did he find but his Fair Ellen
A-washing white marble stone
Come here, come here, George Collins, she cried
Come here, and in by me.
And...
[Spoken: I can't get no more]
George Collins - Sung by Charles Turner of Onego, Randolph County, West Virginia, USA. Recorded by Louis Watson Chappell on October 7, 1939.
Link to original recording:
https://folkmusic.lib.wvu.edu/catalog/Chappell_47_Turner_P2_GeorgieCollins
George Collins rode out in the fields one day
The trees and the flowers were in bloom
A-who did he spy but his own Fair Ellen
A-washing a white marble stone
He swam, he swam, he swam, he swam,
He swam to his own daddy's door
Saying, father, dear father, I pray let me in
I pray let me in once more
Floyd Collins - Sung by Veach Lambert of Riverton, Pendleton County, West Virginia, USA. Recorded by Louis Watson Chappell on June 2, 1938. (1938-06-24)
Link to original recording:
https://folkmusic.lib.wvu.edu/catalog/Chappell_10_Lambert_H_FloydCollins
Floyd Collins walked out in the fields one day
While the trees and the flowers were in bloom
It's who did he spy but Fair Ellen
A-washing a white marble stone
It's who did he spy but his own Fair Ellen
A-washing a white marble stone
Whose coffin, whose coffin, whose coffin, she said
Whose coffin, so neat and so fine?
It's young Johnny Collins' clay cold corpse
An old true lover of mine
It's young Johnny Collins' clay cold corpse
An old true lover of mine
Pull down, pull down these milk white shrouds
As white as the Hollands [in there]
Till I can kiss them pretty cold corpse lips
Ofttimes have kissed mine
Samuel P. Bayard's West Virginia Version of Johnny Collins and Jean Ritchie's Singular Kentucky Fragment
Johnny Collins - Sung by Pennsylvania born folklorist Samuel "Sam" Preston Bayard (1908–1997) at a lecture on Pennsylvania folksong on April 20, 1972. He collected the song several times from singers in West Virginia and Pennsylvania in the 1930s.
Link to original recording:
https://egrove.olemiss.edu/kgreels_us/253/
Johnny Collins was walking the fields one day
When the flowers was all in full bloom,
He spied a maiden, the fairest of all,
A-washing her marble-white stone.
She screamed and cried, she rung her hands,
She waved with a lily-white hand,
Saying, Johnny Collins, Johnny Collins, come quickly here-
Your life it is soon to an end!
He clasped both arms around her waist,
He kissed her cheeks and her chin,
Till the stars from heaven come twinkling down
To the water where Collins jumped in.
He swam and he swam, he swam once more,
He swam to his own father's door,
Saying, Father, dear father, come please take me in,
Come please take me in once more!
If I should die this very night,
As I think in my own heart I will,
Go bury me under by the marble-white stone
At the foot of fair Ellen's green hill.
Fair Ellen was sitting in her bowery door,
A sewing her silken seam,
When she saw a corpse a-going that way:
The finest she ever had seen.
Whose corpse?, she said, whose corpse?, she said;
Whose corpse so neat and so fine?
'Tis young Johnny Collins' clay cold corpse,
Who once'd was a true love of thine!
Go set him down [all on the way],
Till I dress him in roses so fine,
Till I take a last kiss from his clay-cold lips,
For Collins has often kissed mine.
The news it was carried to Dublin's town,
And wrote upon Dublin's gate,
And six pretty maids all died that same night-
'Twas all for young Collins's sake.
As far as I can tell only one of S. P. Bayard's collected Johnny Collins texts was published. It was sung by Mrs. Elizabeth Brookover at Daybrook, Monongalia County, West Virginia, in the 1930s. It's worth sharing it here for being better preserved than any of the American field recordings available to me.
As Collins was walking the fields one day
All dressed in white linen so fine,
He spied a maiden, a pretty fair maid,
A-washing a marble-white stone.
She wrung her hands and tore her hair,
She waved with a lily-white hand,
Saying, Collins, dear Collins, come quickly here-
Your life is soon to an end!
She threw both arms around his neck,
She kissed both his cheeks and his chin,
Till the stars from heaven come twinkling down
On the banks where Collins jumped in.
He swam, he swam, he swam once more,
He swam to his own father's door,
Crying, Father, dear father, please let me in,
Please let me in once more!
If I should die this very night,
Which I think in my own heart I will,
Go bury me down by the marble-white stone
At the foot of fair Ellender's hill.
Fair Ellen was sitting in her parlor next day,
All dressed in her silk so fine,
When she spied a coffin a-coming that way:
'Twas the finest she ever had seen.
Whose coffin, whose coffin, whose coffin? cried she;
'Tis the finest I ever have seen.
Johnny Collins, and his cold corpse lies here,
No more a true lover to me!
Go bring him in and set him down,
And open his coffin so fine,
Till I take the last kiss from his clay-cold lips,
For Collins has ofttimes kissed mine.
Go bring me in a snowy-white sheet
Till I trim it in roses so fine;
Today it'll wave over Collins's grave,
But tomorrow it'll wave over mine.
The news was spread over Douglas's town,
And wailed in at Douglas's gate,
And fair Ellender died, she died that night-
'Twas all for Collins's sake.
Johnny Collins - Sung by Jean Ruth Ritchie (1922–2015) of Viper, Perry County, Kentucky, USA. Recorded at a concert at the Stephen Foster Center in White Springs, North Florida, USA, on December 5, 1976. She learned the song in Loyall, Harlan County, Kentucky, from an old man, Mr. A. L. Grennels (or Grinnels, possibly Arthur Leonard Grinnell?), in 1968 or 1969, and he in turn learned it from his father. Mr. Grennels passed away between 1972 and 1974. Jean Ritchie also recorded Johnny Collins on "Clear Waters Remembered" (1971) Sire – SES 97014.
Link to original recording:
https://floridamemory.com/items/show/239556
The only time Johnny Collins was found in Kentucky. The riverside encounter with the strange woman (or Fair Ellen) is missing and the burial request at the foot of Fair Ellen's green hill was moved to the very end, where it seems more sensible in this fragment. Maud Karpeles' text, which she collected from Mrs. Mary Tibbs of Trinity, Newfoundland, on September 13, 1929, shows the same peculiarity. On this occasion Jean only sang two verses as an example in a discussion of song variants.
Jean Ritchie also had a version of "George Collins rode home one cold winter's night" in her repertoire which she'd learned from an 11 year old girl named Margo Coffey after a concert in Clarksburg, Kentucky, in 1970. Jean sang Johnny Collins at the concert and Margo came up to her afterwards and said I know that song, same story, but it's all different, and she sang George Collins for her. Amusingly Margo thought that Jean "had gotten it all wrong" and that her own version was the correct way of singing it. It's a fine example of the folk process at work.
Whose coffin, whose coffin, whose coffin, said she
Whose coffin so neat and so fine;
'Tis young Johnny Collins' clay cold corpse,
An old true lover of thine.
The news went round through Dublin town,
You could see it on Dublin's gate;
Six pretty fair maidens they died last night,
And it's all for Johnny Collins' sake.
Johnny Collins - Sung by Jean Ruth Ritchie while accompanying herself on the dulcimer. Recorded at a concert at Freight and Salvage in Berkeley, California, April 26, 1972, by Warren Van Orden. From the KPFA Pacifica Radio Archives.
Link to original recording:
https://avplayer.lib.berkeley.edu/Pacifica/b23305588
Fair Ellen she sits in her own cottage door,
Dressed up in her laces so fine,
'Twas there she spied a coffin a-coming,
As rise as her eyes did shine.
Whose coffin, whose coffin, whose coffin, said she
Whose coffin so neat and so fine;
'Tis young Johnny Collins' clay cold corpse,
An old true lover of thine.
She's ordered the coffin be opened right there,
As it landed on Dublin shore,
She may take the last kiss from his clay cold lips,
So often she's kissed him before.
She's trimmed it up, she's trimmed it down,
She's trimmed it with laces so fine,
Today they shall hang o'er young Collins' grave,
Tomorrow shall hang over mine.
Then she's took down her long yellow hair,
All over her pillow it spread,
I'll eat no more, I'll drink now more,
Since my Johnny Collins is dead.
The news went round through Dublin town,
You could see it on Dublin's gate;
Six pretty fair maidens they died last night,
It's all for young Collins' sake.
And if I should die this very night,
As I feel in my mind that I will,
Go bury me under the white marble stones,
At the foot of Fair Ellen's green hill.
A 1974 video recording of Jean Ritchie performing Johnny Collins at a concert at Berea College in Berea, Kentucky, can be watched here:
https://youtu.be/k8FuvYx0lBw
George Collins Alive and Well in Hampshire in 1955, Enos White, Bob Copper and Giles Collins and Lady Alice in Sussex, Jacquey Gabriel
George Collins - Sung by Enos White (born 1885, then 70 years old) of Axford, Hants, Hampshire, England. Recorded by Bob Copper (of the singing Copper Family of Rottingdean, Sussex) for the BBC Folk Music and Dialect Recording Scheme on July 25, 1955 in the front parlour of Enos White's cottage at the back of the 'Crown Inn', Axford. BBC Record RPL 21857. Released on "Songs and Southern Breezes: Country Singers from Hampshire and Sussex" (1977) Topic Records – 12T317.
Mr. White remarked to Bob Copper that in 1907 Dr. George B. Gardiner collected songs from his wife's mother who was named Randall and lived up Ellisfield. Mr. White was illiterate, he learned songs only from hearing other people sing. He worked most of his life as a carter on farms in the surrounding areas. In 1955 when Bob Copper met him he was working as a gardener.
George Collins walked out one May morning
When May was all in bloom,
And there he saw a fair pretty maid
A-washing her white marble stone.
She hooped, she holloed, she called out so loud,
She waved her lily-white hand.
'Come hither to me, George Collins', cried she,
'For your life it won't last you long.'
He put his benbow down on the bank-side
And across the river he sprung.
He clips his arms round her middle so small
And he kiss-ed her red rosy cheeks.
George Collins rode home to his father's own house
And he knock-ed at the ring.
'Arise, arise, dear father', he cried,
'Arise and let me in.'
'Arise, arise, dear mother', he cried,
'Arise and shake up my bed.'
'Arise, arise, dear sister', he cried,
'Get a napkin to tie round my head.'
'For if I should die this night
Which I suppose I shall,
You bury me under that white marble stone
That leads from fair Ellender's home.'
Fair Ellender sat in her hall one day
A-weaving her silk so fine.
She saw the finest corpse a-coming
That ever her eyes shone on.
Fair Ellender said unto her head maid,
'Whose corpse is this so fine?'
She made a reply, 'George Collins's corpse,
An old true-lover of thine.'
'O put him down, my little brave boy,
And open his coffin so wide,
That I might kiss George Collins's cheeks
For ten thousand times he has kissed mine.'
[ You go upstairs and fetch me the sheet,
That's wove with a silver twine.
And hang that over George Collin's head,
For tomorrow it will hang over mine. ] [*]
This news being carried to fair London town
And wrote on London gates:
'There were six pretty maids died all in one night,
'Twas all for George Collins's sake.'
[*] This stanza comes from a version collected by Dr. George B. Gardiner (words) and John Fisher Guyer (tune) in 1906 from Mr. George Blake (then aged 78) of St. Denys, by Southampton, Hants. It wasn't sung by Enos White, their texts otherwise sharing the same stanzas with some wording differences, I'm giving it here for completeness sake. G. B. Gardiner collected 6 George Collins texts in Hampshire in the early 1900s, with surprisingly varied tunes but similar words. Curiously they all have an incomplete third or fourth stanza, the "Arise my dear father, mother, sister" part. Enos White's text has it complete, thankfully. In 1955 he may well have been the last singer left in Hampshire who could recall the words.
George Collins - Sung by Robert "Bob" Copper (1915–2004) while accompanying himself on the concertina. Bob's family came from the village of Rottingdean, Brighton and Hove, East Sussex, England, but he lived most of his life in the neighbouring town of Peacehaven, Lewes, East Sussex, England. He recorded the song from Enos White of Axford, Hampshire, in 1955. Bob Copper was a member of the renowned Copper Family of traditional singers from Rottingdean and a splendid singer in his own right. Recorded at a concert together with Bob Lewis at Nellie's Folk Club, The Rose and Crown Hotel, Tonbridge, Kent, on October 17, 1999, by Andrew King. From the CD "The Two Bobs' Worth" (2017) Musical Traditions – MTCD374. Bob Copper also sang George Collins unaccompanied on "When the May Is All in Bloom" (1995) Veteran – VT131CD.
A cover of Enos White's version. It's a wonderful performance, I couldn't pass up the chance to share it here. Bob Copper and his family kept Enos White's George Collins alive in England long after he had passed on and the original field recording of Mr. White persists to be rediscovered by future generations. The song was on the verge of being lost forever, but now it has been immortalised. I think Mr. White would've been happy if he had known that people would still sing and enjoy his songs 70 years later.
George Collins rode out one morning in May
When may was all in bloom.
And there he espied a fair pretty maid,
She was washing her white marble stone.
She hooped, she hollered, she highered her voice,
She waved her lilywhite hand.
"Come hither to me, George Collins," cried she
"For your life it won't last you long."
He put his benbow down on the bank side,
And over the river sprang he.
He slipped his hands round her middle so small,
And kissèd her red rosy lips.
George Collins rode home to his father's gate.
He rattled at the ring.
"Come down, oh Father, oh Father," he cried
Come down and let me in."
"Come down, oh Mother, oh Mother," he cried
"Come down and shake up my bed.
"Come down, oh Sister, oh Sister," he cried
"Get a napkin to tie round my head."
"If I should chance to die this night,
As I suppose I shall,
You may bury me under that white marble stone
That lies in fair Eleander's hall."
Fair Eleander sat in her hall one day
She's weaving her silk so fine,
When she espied the finest corpse coming
That ever her eyes shone on.
Fair Eleander said unto her head maid:
"Whose corpse is this so fine?"
She made her reply "George Collins' corpse,
An old true lovier of thine."
"Then set him down, my pretty brave boys,
And open his coffin so wide,
That I might kiss George Collins' lips,
For ten thousand times he has kissed mine."
This news was carried to London town,
And writ on London gate,
That six pretty maids died all of one night,
All for George Collins' sake.
Giles Collins - Sung by Jacquey Gabriel of Winchcomb, Gloucestershire, England. Recorded by Mike Yates at Jacquey's home in 1978. She learned it from her father sometime before her 14th birthday, having heard him sing it in pubs around Bury St Edmunds, West Suffolk, Suffolk, England. From "Up in the North and Down in the South" (2001) Musical Traditions – MTCD311/2.
The only time a version was collected from Suffolk tradition, all other English texts came from Hampshire. It is notably different from the Hampshare versions and in many ways improves the sense of the story. The protagonists are named Giles Collins and Lady Alice as in Prof. Child's burlesque versions. It is quite a unique text and unfortunately I don't have any information on when Jacquey Gabriel's father was born or even his name. There's always the possibility that this version was influenced by print, her father's singing at the pubs certainly falls into the folk revival era, but it appears to be genuine. There's nothing in the text that strikes me as particularly odd or suspicious other than it being exceptionally well preserved and having the uncommon names Giles and Alice.
This the only Collins text to preserve the washing of the silken cloth in the opening stanza (if we believe the song to be related to Child 42). Other texts have the woman washing a marble stone or tomb rather than a cloth as in Clerk Colvill. According to Barbara M. Cra'ster in a 1910 article on the Hampshire "George Collins" originally the cloth may have signified a betrothal gift to Clerk Colvill.
In the book "I Walked by Night - Being the Life & History of the King of Norfolk Poachers" (1935) by Lilias Rider Haggard there's a "Giles Collins" text, as sung by Fred Rolfe of Norfolk, but it is of the burlesque Lady Alice type.
Giles Collins rode out one May morning,
When bloom was all in a drift;
And there he spied a fair pretty maid
Washing her fine silken shift.
She whooped, she hailed, she highered her voice,
She waved her lily-white hand.
"Come hither to me, Giles Collins", she said,
"Or your days won't be long in the land."
And he's set his foot on the broad river brim,
And over the water sprang he.
He's clasped her about her middle so slim
And he's taken her fair body.
Giles Collins he rode to his own father's hall.
"Rise Mother and make my bed,
And fetch me a 'kerchief of linen so fine,
For to comfort the pain in my head."
"And if I should chance to die this night,
I greatly fear I shall.
Then bury me under a white marble stone,
Set close to fair Alice's hall."
Fair Alice she sat in her bower so fine,
A-sewing a fine silken sheet.
She saw the fairest corpse coming by
That ever her eyes did meet.
And she's called to her serving-maid:
"Whose corpse goes there so fine?"
"Oh, that is the corpse of Giles Collins", she said,
"A one-time lover of thine."
"If that be the corpse of Giles Collins", she said,
"Go now and make my bed.
And fetch me a priest to shrive my sins,
For tomorrow I shall be dead."
"Then go you upstairs and fetch me a sheet,
One woven of silk so fine;
And hang it all over Giles Collins's corpse,
Tomorrow, hang it o'er mine."
"Then set him down you six pretty maids,
And open his coffin so fine.
That I may kiss those clay-cold lips,
That oftimes have kissed mine."
The news it was brought to famed London Town,
And through London's streets was spread;
That seven fair maids died all of one night,
Because Giles Collins was dead.
Lee Monroe Presnell's Mournful George Collins from Beech Mountain, North Carolina, and Ewan MacColl Sings Clerk Colven, Child 42, Version A
George Collins - Sung by "Uncle" Lee Monroe Presnell (1875–1963, then aged 86) of Beech Mountain, Avery and Watauga County, North Carolina, USA. He learned the song from his mother, Louisa Jane "Eliza" Harmon Presnell (1828–1898), also of Beech Mountain. Recorded by Sandy Paton in the autumn of 1961. From "The Traditional Music of Beech Mountain, North Carolina, Vol. 1" (1964) Folk-Legacy – FSA-22.
Much more widespread in America than the longer Johnny Collins texts is this short lyrical lament, almost invariably titled George Collins, and beginning "George Collins rode home one cold winter night, George Collins rode home so fine". It preserves little of the story and the little that remains isn't particularly interesting, but it was often sung to quite attractive tunes.
I wanted to share one example of this short form of George Collins for the sake of comparison. Lee Monroe Presnell's version is an especially fine one with its mournful tune. This form of the ballad has lost nearly all of the story, but it is not a burlesque or a parody. Unlike Prof. Child's texts the style is serious. It was widespread in the Appalachians and also recorded by several old-timey musicians in the 1930s, many of the later field collections may go back to these influential, early commercial recordings. There is little variation between texts, even the lonesome dove floater verse is a common feature of most of them. This is probably the only form of Child 85 that is still widely known and sung in America even today.
George Collins rode home one cold winter's night,
George Collins rode home so fine,
George Collins rode home one cold winter's night,
Taken sick and died.
Mary was setting in yonders door,
A-sewing her silk so fine,
O when she heard of George being dead,
She laid her silk aside.
She followed him up, she followed him down
She followed him to his grave.
Down on her bended knees she fell,
She screamed, she cried and prayed.
"O daughter, O daughter what makes you weep so,
There's more young men than George?"
"Mother O mother George is got my heart,
And now he's dead and gone.
"Set down the coffin, take off the lid,
Push back the linen so fine.
o may I kiss them pale, clay lips,
I'm sure they'll never kiss mine."
"O don't you see that lonesome dove.
A-sailing through the pines?
She's mourning for the loss of her own true love
Just like I mourn for mine."
Clerk Colvin - Sung by Ewan MacColl on "The Long Harvest Vol. 7" (1967) Argo – ZDA 72. A cover of Child 42, Version A, from the singing of Anna Gordon (Mrs. Brown) (1747–1810) of Falkland, Aberdeenshire, Scotland. Printed in Ritson Tytler-Brown MS, pp. 6-9. It is Bronson's only text and tune, BIB 5, Vol. I, p. 334.
A man slights a watersprite for another woman and she causes his sickness and death. A Scandinavian ballad, "Elveskud" or "Herr Olof", tells of a similar fatal encounter with an elf-maid. The German literary ballad "Ritter Peter von Stauffenberg und die Meerfeye" or "The Knight of Stauffenberg" of circa 1310 is also in this tradition.
It is interesting to note that the name Clerk (C)Olven is phonetically reminiscent of the Herr Olof (or Oluf or Olaf) of Scandinavian tradition. But that is speculation. The Scandinavian texts involve a fatal affair with an elf woman, not a mermaid or watersprite.
Clerk Colven and his gay lady
As they walk'd to yon garden green,
A belt about her middle gimp,
Which cost Clerk Colven crowns fifteen.
'O harken well now, my good lord,
And harken well to what I say:
When ye gae to the walls o' Stream,
Be sure ye touch nae well fav'rd may.'
'O haud your tongue, my gay lady,
And dinna deave me wi' your din;
I never saw a fair woman
But wi' her body I cou'd sin.'
He mounted on his berry-brown steed,
And merry merry rade he on,
Till he came til the walls o' Stream,
An' there he saw the mermaiden.
'Ye wash, ye wash, ye bonny may,
And ay's ye wash your sark o' silk.'
'It's a' for you, ye gentle knight,
My skin is whiter than the milk.'
He's taen her by the milk white hand,
And likewise by the grass-green sleeve,
And laid her down upon the green,
Nor of his lady speer'd he leave.
Ohon! alas! cries Clerk Colven,
An' ay sae sair's I mean my head.
Merrily leugh the mermaiden:
'O, even on, till ye be dead.
But out ye tak' your little pen-knife,
An' frae my sark ye shear a gare,
An' row't about your bonny head,
And the pain you'll never feel nae mair.'
Out has he taen his little pen-knife,
An' frae her sark he's shorn a gare,
Row't that about his bonny head;
But the pain increased mair and mair.
Ohon! alas! cries Clerk Colven,
An' ay sae sair's I mean my head.
Merrily leugh the mermaiden:
'Twill ay be waur till ye be dead.'
Then out he drew his trusty blade,
And thought wi' it to be her dead;
But she became a fish again,
And merrily sprang into the fleed.
He's mounted on his berry-brown steed,
An' dowie dowie rade he hame,
Until he came to his lady's bower door
An' heavily he lighted down.
'O, mither, mither, mak' my bed,
An', gentle lady, lay me down;
O brither, brither, unbend my bow,
'Twill never be bent by me again.'
His mither she has made his bed,
The gentle lady laid him down,
His brither he has unbent his bow,
'Twas never bent by him again.
Child 42, Version C, "Clerk Colin", comes closest to the modern Collins texts:
http://71.174.62.16/Demo/LongerHarvest?Text=Child_d04203
It was printed in Notes and Queries, 4th Series, VIII, 510, in 1871, from the recitation of a lady in Forfarshire (now Angus), Scotland. Prof. Child writes the lady should be none other than Anna Gordon (Mrs. Brown) (1747–1810), the prolific ballad collector of Falkland who also supplied the more complete Child 42, Version A text.
And that's all for now!
~Kevin W. (Reynard the Fox)
|
sj
