As it fell on one holyday, As many be in the year, When young men and maids together did go Their matins and mass to hear, Little Musgrave came to the church door – The priest was at private mass...
As it fell on one holyday,
As many be in the year,
When young men and maids together did go
Their matins and mass to hear,
Little Musgrave came to the church door –
The priest was at private mass –
But he had more mind of the fair women
Than he had of Our Lady's grace.
The one of them was clad in green
Another was clad in pall,
And then came in my Lord Barnard's wife,
The fairest amongst them all,
Quoth she, "I've loved thee, Little Musgrave,
Full long and many a day".
"So have I lov'd you, my fair ladye,
Yet never a word durst I say".
"But I have a bower at Bucklesfordberry,
Full daintily it is dight,
If thou'lt wend thither, thou Little Musgrave,
Thou's lig in my arms all night."
With that beheard a little tiny page,
By his lady's coach as he ran.
Says, "Although I am my lady's foot-page,
Yet I am Lord Barnard's man!"
Then he's cast off his hose and cast off his shoon,
Set down his feet and ran,
And where the bridges were broken down
He bent he bow and swam.
"Awake! awake! thou Lord Barnard,
As thou art a man of life!
Little Musgrave is at Bucklesfordberry
Along with thine own wedded wife".
He called up his merry men all:
"Come saddle me my steed;
This night must I to Bucklesfordberry,
F'r I never had greater need".
But some they whistled, and some they sang,
And some they thus could say,
Whenever Lord Barnard's horn it blew:
"Away, Musgrave away!"
"Methinks I hear the threstlecock,
Methinks I hear the jay;
Methinks I hear Lord Barnard's horn,
Away Musgrave! Away!"
"Lie still, lie still, thou little Musgrave,
And huggle me from the cold;
'Tis nothing but a shepherd's boy
A-driving his sheep to the fold.
"By this, Lord Barnard came to his door
And lighted a stone upon;
And he's pull'd out three silver keys,
And open'd the doors each one.
He lifted up the coverlet,
He lifted up the sheet:
"Arise, arise, thou Little Musgrave,
And put thy clothes on;
It shall ne'er be said in my country
I've killed a naked man.
I have two swords in one scabbard,
They are both sharp and clear;
Take you the best, and I the worst,
We'll end the matter here.
"The first stroke Little Musgrave struck
He hurt Lord Barnard sore;
The next stroke that Lord Barnard struck,
he struck.
Little Musgrave ne'er struck more.
"Woe worth you, my merry men all,
You were ne'er born for my good!
Why did you not offer to stay my hand
When you saw me wax so wood?
For I've slain also the fairest ladye
That ever did woman's deed.
A grave," Lord Barnard cried, "To put these lovers in!
But lay my lady on the upper hand,
For she comes of the nobler kin".
The public interest in personal violence is nothing new. Long before Stitcher, Netflix, and TikTok, stories of young women being killed were shared through folksongs that were often inspired by real events—just like Lifetime movies. Murder ballads are folksongs that tell the story of a violent crime, usually the murder of a young woman, most often by a lover. These songs were popular throughout the United States in the nineteenth century, though they have become particularly associated with southern Appalachia, where they are an essential part of the region’s musical traditions. Earlier versions of many of the popular Appalachian murder ballads, such as “Pretty Polly” or “Silver Dagger,” can be traced back hundreds of years to England and Scotland, though in their heyday, plenty of homegrown American ballads, like “The Banks of the Ohio” or “Tom Dooley,” made their way around the country, telling the stories of real-life murders in a time before people could tune into Dateline to hear them. In the twentieth century, musicians such as Johnny Cash, Judy Collins, and Nick Cave have recorded murder ballads, and Sharyn McCrumb based many of the books in her ballad series on the songs.
Janet Beard is the author of The Ballad of Laurel Springs, available now from Gallery Books. She created a Spotify playlist to accompany the book. It includes her favorite recordings of folksongs and murder ballads by Dolly Parton, Ray Charles, Emmylou Harris, Johnny Cash, Fats Domino and other notable artists. You can listen here. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5xtVKuPXm0OXSoNcGQIHsn?si=a4827773fe124b1b&nd=1
I'd never thought about it, but that does make sense. Songs were a way of passing on history before writing everything down and storing the data somewhere became common.
I'd never thought about it, but that does make sense. Songs were a way of passing on history before writing everything down and storing the data somewhere became common.
As it fell on one holyday,
As many be in the year,
When young men and maids together did go
Their matins and mass to hear,
Little Musgrave came to the church door –
The priest was at private mass –
But he had more mind of the fair women
Than he had of Our Lady's grace.
The one of them was clad in green
Another was clad in pall,
And then came in my Lord Barnard's wife,
The fairest amongst them all,
Quoth she, "I've loved thee, Little Musgrave,
Full long and many a day".
"So have I lov'd you, my fair ladye,
Yet never a word durst I say".
"But I have a bower at Bucklesfordberry,
Full daintily it is dight,
If thou'lt wend thither, thou Little Musgrave,
Thou's lig in my arms all night."
With that beheard a little tiny page,
By his lady's coach as he ran.
Says, "Although I am my lady's foot-page,
Yet I am Lord Barnard's man!"
Then he's cast off his hose and cast off his shoon,
Set down his feet and ran,
And where the bridges were broken down
He bent he bow and swam.
"Awake! awake! thou Lord Barnard,
As thou art a man of life!
Little Musgrave is at Bucklesfordberry
Along with thine own wedded wife".
He called up his merry men all:
"Come saddle me my steed;
This night must I to Bucklesfordberry,
F'r I never had greater need".
But some they whistled, and some they sang,
And some they thus could say,
Whenever Lord Barnard's horn it blew:
"Away, Musgrave away!"
"Methinks I hear the threstlecock,
Methinks I hear the jay;
Methinks I hear Lord Barnard's horn,
Away Musgrave! Away!"
"Lie still, lie still, thou little Musgrave,
And huggle me from the cold;
'Tis nothing but a shepherd's boy
A-driving his sheep to the fold.
"By this, Lord Barnard came to his door
And lighted a stone upon;
And he's pull'd out three silver keys,
And open'd the doors each one.
He lifted up the coverlet,
He lifted up the sheet:
"Arise, arise, thou Little Musgrave,
And put thy clothes on;
It shall ne'er be said in my country
I've killed a naked man.
I have two swords in one scabbard,
They are both sharp and clear;
Take you the best, and I the worst,
We'll end the matter here.
"The first stroke Little Musgrave struck
He hurt Lord Barnard sore;
The next stroke that Lord Barnard struck,
he struck.
Little Musgrave ne'er struck more.
"Woe worth you, my merry men all,
You were ne'er born for my good!
Why did you not offer to stay my hand
When you saw me wax so wood?
For I've slain also the fairest ladye
That ever did woman's deed.
A grave," Lord Barnard cried, "To put these lovers in!
But lay my lady on the upper hand,
For she comes of the nobler kin".
https://youtu.be/wrhtex3x_mE?si=KIUCfK7LtjbK-pJr
I'd never thought about it, but that does make sense. Songs were a way of passing on history before writing everything down and storing the data somewhere became common.