| Author | Topic: Add: The Bloody Gardener | |
| Malcolm Douglas |
Posted - 08 Sep 02 - 03:55 am | |
The Bloody Gardener 'Twas of a lady fair, a shepherd's daughter dear, She was courted by her own sweetheart's delight, But false letters mother wrote: Meet me dear my heart's delight For it's about some business I have to relate. O this young maid arose and to the garden goes In hopes to meet her own true heart's delight. She searched the ground and no true love she found, Till at length a bloody gardener appeared in view. He says: My lady gay, what brought you here this way, Or have you come to rob me of my garden gay? She cries: No thief I am, but I'm in search of a young man, Who promised that he'd meet me here this way. Prepare, prepare, he cried, prepare to lose your life. I'll lay your virtuous body to bleed in the ground, And with flowers fine and gay your grave I'll overlay In the way your body never will be found. He took out his knife, cut the single thread of life, And he laid her virtuous body to bleed in the ground, And with flowers fine and gay her grave he overlaid In the way her virtuous body never should be found. This young man arose and into the garden goes In hopes to meet his own true heart's delight. He searched the garden round, but no true love he found Till the groves and the valleys seemed with him to mourn. O he sat down to rest on a mossy bank so sweet Till a milk-white dove come perching round his face, And with battering wings so sweet all around this young man's feet, But when he arose this dove she flew away. The dove she flew away and perched on a myrtle tree And the young man called after her with speed. This young man called after her with his heart filled with woe, Until he came to where the dove she lay. He said: My pretty dove, what makes you look so sad, Or have you lost your love as I have mine? When down from a tree so tall, down on her grave did fall, She drooped her wings and shook her head and bled fresh from the breast. O this young man arose and unto his home did go, Saying: Mother dear, you have me undone; You have robbed me of my dear, my joy and my delight, So it's alone with my darling I'll soon take flight. Sung by Mrs. May McCabe at North River, Conception Bay, Newfoundland: 16th. October 1929. Folk Songs from Newfoundland, Maud Karpeles, 1971. Miss Karpeles commented: "A more sophisticated broadside version with twenty-seven stanzas is to be found in the Harvard University Library in a fourteen-volume collection of ballads printed by Catnach, Bebbington, Ryle, etc. An extract is quoted in Brand's Popular Antiquities, iii, p. 217 (1893 ed.). Another similar version, entitled The Bloody Gardener's Cruelty, or The Shepherd's Daughter Betrayed, is in a chapbook, printed at Tewkesbury at the beginning of the century by S. Harrow. A relative of his, an old lady of over ninety, used to sing the ballad (see J. Harvey Bloom's Folk Lore in Shakespeare Land), but it was not noted from her; the only other version with tune that has come to light so far is to be found in [Kenneth] Peacock, Songs of the Newfoundland Outports, 1965, p. 668." There are a number of broadside examples at Bodleian Library Broadside Ballads. They don't differ greatly, but in some the dove speaks to the young man; in some he thinks it speaks; and in some that bit is skipped. The final line also varies. These examples represent the variant strands: The bloody gardener's cruelty; or, The shepherd's daughter betrayed -Harding B 1(100). Printed between 1736 and 1763 by W. and C. Dicey, the Printing-Office in Bow-Church-Yard, London. The bloody gardener's cruelty: or, The shepherd's daughter betrayed - Harding B 1(94) . Printed between 1821 and 1828 by J. and C. Evans, Long-lane, London. The bloody gardener -Harding B 5(113). Printer and date unknown. Roud 1700. The Bloody Garden 'Tis of a beauty fair, oh and a shepherd's daughter dear, She was courted by her own true heart's delight; She was a virgin bright, oh his joy and heart's delight, Oh and nothing but death could this young couple part. His mother false and cruel wrote a letter to his jewel, And she wrote it in a hand just like his own, Saying: "Meet me here tonight, meet me here my heart's delight, In the garden gay nearby my mother's home." The gardener agreed oh with fifty pounds indeed To kill this girl and lay her in the ground, And with flowers fine and gay oh her grave to overlay, That way her virgin body ne'er shall be found. This fair one she arose oh and to the garden goes All for to meet her own true heart's delight; Where she searched the groves all round oh but no true love she found, Till at length the bloody gardener came in sight. "Oh madam now I pray, what brought you here this way, Are you going to rob me of my garden gay?" "No," she said, "no thief I am, I'm in search of a young man Who has promised for to meet me here this way." "Prepare, prepare," he cries, " oh prepare to lose your life, Your virgin body bleeding in the ground; And with flowers fine and gay oh your grave I'll overlay, That way your virgin body ne'er could be found." She on the ground did fall oh and to the Lord did call. Saying, "Oh false cruel love is this your design?" "No, his mother false and cruel has betrayed you and your jewel, And has paid me well to make your heart all mine." With that he drew a knife, cut the single thread of life, Lay her virgin body bleeding on the ground; And with flowers fine and gay oh her grave did overlay, That way her virgin body ne'er could be found. This young man he arose and to the garden goes All for to meet his own true heart's delight; Where he searched the grove all round oh but no true love he found, Till the grove and the valleys seemed to mourn. Then he lay down to sleep on a mossy bank so sweet, Where a milk-white dove flew swiftly o'er his head; With her battering wings did beat all about this young man's feet, And when he awoke the dove she had fled. The dove away did flee and perched on a myrtle tree, And the young man followed her through the garden gay; He called her soft and low with his heart so full of woe, Till he came to the place where the dove did lay. He said, "My pretty dove, so mournful there above, Have you lost your own true love as I have mine?" Down from the tree so tall oh she on the ground did fall, Where she drooped her neck spread her wings, and bled from the breast. This young man home did go with his heart so full of woe, Saying, "Oh false cruel mother you have me undone, Robbed me of my beauty bright, oh my joy and heart's delight, And 'tis soon now you shall have no heir and son." With that he drew a knife, cut the single thread of life In the bloody garden where his true love lay. "Oh my virgin beauty bright, oh my joy and heart's delight, So we both shall meet all in the garden gay." Sung by Everett Bennett, St. Paul's, Newfoundland, August 1958. PEA 95 no. 755 Songs of the Newfoundland Outports, vol. 3, p. 668. Kenneth Peacock, 1965. Compare these and the broadside sets from which they derive; the instincts of "the folk" in paring down over-long narrative can be seen in operation, though these are, in all conscience, not especially successful examples of that process. They are, however, all we have. A.L. Lloyd presented Martin Carthy with a set of this song, which he said he had found "in a Vauxhall Gardens songbook of c. 1770". Maybe he did; I don't believe for a moment, however, that he found it in the form in which he gave it to Martin. On the face of it, that set looks like a typical Lloyd re-write, set to (probably) the tune noted in Newfoundland by Maud Karpeles, modified to make it sound more interesting. (Byker Hill: Martin Carthy & Dave Swarbrick. Fontana (Polygram, 1967); Topic TSCD 342, 1991). | ||
| Ed | Posted - 08 Sep 02 - 06:58 pm | |
Added to the database as: Bloody Gardener, The and Bloody Garden, The Ed | ||
| Ed | Posted - 10 Sep 02 - 11:58 am | |
I've updated the Bloody Garden ABC. (png output here). The slurs on the grace notes aren't exactly as written on the score, but I think good enough in terms of providing the same musical instruction. The penultimate bar ('this young couple') is actually one of 5/4. Do you think I should 'correct' this, or leave it out as in the written score? Ed | ||
| Jon Freeman | Posted - 10 Sep 02 - 12:48 pm | |
Nice job Ed. I'd leave it as written on the score. Jon | ||
| Malcolm Douglas |
Posted - 10 Sep 02 - 03:14 pm | |
I thought to begin with that it was 5/4, then decided to assume that the two eighth-notes were indicated as a variation (as in bar 7); on further reflection, you're probably right. | ||
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